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I LIBRARY OF CONGRESS.! 






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1 UNITED STATES OP AMERICA, f 

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HEART ECHOES. 



HELEN ArMANVILLE. 

(NELLIE A. MANN.) 



If I have ever gently stirred, 
Your heart-strings with a little word 
In kindness said, and it has brought 
One pleasure to your bower of thought ; 
If I have ever in my song, 
Scattered the flowers of hope along 
Your thorny pathway, o'er and o'er, 
I breathe the words — I ask no more. 



</;/ Or C^" 
^ 1876 ^ ,. W 

•NEW YORK: M:i?^fft^^:^ 
PUBLISHED BY SAMUEL R. WELLS & CO., 

737 BEOADWAY. 

1875. 






Copyright, 1874, uy 
S. R. Weli^. 



EDWARD O. JENKINS, 

PRLVTER AND STKREOTYPER, 

20 Noi-tb William Street. N. Y. 



^ 



TO 



My Musband 



BESIDE WHOSE FEET MY OWN HAVE WALKED 
FOR NEARLY TWENTY YEARS, 



MAR TON, 



THE ONE CHILD OF OUR LOVE, 



1 dedicate 



THIS VOLUME, 



PREFACE. 



All singers are not good singers. 

That I have not touched the harp of Poesy with 
a master hand, I know ; yet, in the hope that these 
simple Heart Echoes will not be found altogether 
unworthy — either of praise or censure— and that 
they will somewhere awaken an answering response, 
I give this, my first book, to the public. 

H. A. M. 

La Crosse, Wis., Sej)ty 1874. 



CONTENTS 



Violets, . . . . 






PAGE. 

I 


In the Dust, 








2 


Jubilate, 








3 


If, . . 








3 


Born To-day, 








4 


Waiting, . . ■ 








6 


As we Make It, 








6 


Sunlight, 








7 


Wedded, 








8 


What of My Loved ? 








9 


At Night, 








lO 


Delusion, 








12 


The Old, Old Story, 








. 13 


Drowned, 








. 15 


All I Ask, 








■ 17 


One Day, 








. i8 


Aged Seventy Vears, 








20 


Drifting Seaward, 








21 



viii. CONTENTS. 








PAGE. 


In Faith, 


, . .22 


Never Give Up, • 






. 24 


Summer, . , • 






. 25 


Old Barn on the Green, 






. 26 


The Baby, 






. 27 


A Picture from Nature, 






. 29 


The Old Mill of Austend, 






■ 30 


Above all Price, 






32 


Be Content, . . . - 






. 33 


Irrevocable, 






. 34 


The Voice of the Winds, 






. 35 


A Love Idyl, 






. 38 


Sold, 






. 38 


In Time, .... 






. 40 


Grace-a-Dieu, 






. 41 


Stepping-Stones to God, 






. 42 


Thoughts at Night, 






. 43 


'Neath the Ban of the Years, 






45 


Sunset on Lake Como, 






46 


All that is Left, 






48 


The Shoes that NelHe Wore, 






48 


Do Your Best, 






51 


The Return, 






52 


Grandmother Vane, • • 






56 



CONTENTS. 






ix. 


PAGF. 


Baby's Drawer, 






59 


Pull Your Own Weeds, 






. 6i 


Re-united, 






. 62 


My Picture Gallery, . 






. 63 


The Land of the East, 






. 64 


My Casket of Pearls, 






. 65 


A Te Deum to God, 






67 


Voices in my Heart, 






6Z 


When the Sun shall Cross the Line, 






69 


Baby is Dead, 






70 


Thoughts Suggested by Reading, 






71 


Beyond the Stars, . . . 






73 


In the Twilight, . . , 






74 


October, .... 






75 


Each Day will its Labor Bring, 






n 


World Weary, 






78 


I Have Dreamed, 






79 


Seed-time and Harvest, 






81 


Song, 






82 


In Winter, 






. 82 


Nothing but Leaves, 






84 


Too Late, 






85 


A Night Watch, 






. 86 


Sunset Hour, 






. 87 



X. ■ CONTENTS. 








PAGE. 

Beside the Fender, . . ... .88 


Love's Tryst, 








. 89 


Introspective, 








. 90 


In the Days Lang Syne, 








. 92 


In Thankfulness, 








. 94 


Hosanna to the King, 








95 


Free, ... 








. 96 


An Autumn Day, 








97 


Crossing Over, 








98 


November, 








. 100 


Jennie, 








. 102 


Sometime, 




• 




103 


The Wounded Linnet, 








104 


Growing Old, 








106 


Dying, 








108 


Alone, 








109 


They Say, 








no 


Nature's Poem, 








III 


Hour of Thought, 








112 


As by Death, 








114 


The Long Ago, 








115 


Forgive, 








116 


His Ways Not Always are as Ours, 




117 


Yesterday, 


, 


, 




118 



CONTENTS. 



Tt is Not Death, 

In Summer, 

Life's Discipline, 

Fetters of Gold, 

Tell Me, 

The City of Peace, 

Margaret, 

An Autumn Reverie, 

Sunshine in the Heart, 

When from Earth I Go Away, 

Flower Incense, 

My Dead, 

The Earl's Secret, 

In the Dusk, 

White Blossom of Rest, 

Rain of Summer, 

A Picture from Memory, 

The Footsteps of the Rain, 

Faith in- You, 

Firelight Fancies, 

Our Only One, 

To be with Thee, 

Marion, 

The Presence of God, 



PAGE. 

122 
124 
126 
127 
128 
129 

131 
132 

134 

135 
140 

142 

142 

143 
144 

145 

146 

148 
149 
150 
152 



xu. 



CONTENTS. 



Let if Pass, . . ' 

Sleeping, 

My Darling, . 

November Song, 

The Dying Year, 

The Two Angels, 

Blind, 

Over the River, 

Reaching Out a Helping Hand, 

A Winter Evening Picture, 

The Brown Girl, 

The River of Youth, 

Recompense, 

Floating Down the River. 



PAGE. 

156 

158 
160 
161 
162 
163 
164 
165 
166 
167 
168 



HEART ECHOES. 



VIOLETS. 



The careless fingers of the April wind 

Have rent the grasses' coverlet in twain ; 
And, looking down with wistful eyes, I find 

The sod is studded thick with violets again — 
All studded thick with violets as blue 

As Heaven's high arch is after April rain : 
O heart of mine, I knew — yes, well I knew — 

Ere long they would be blossoming again. ■ 

All Winter, when the snow lay white upon the heath, 

This heart of mine kept saying o'er and o'er, 
" They sleep the sleep so near akin to death — 

But O, be glad, for they will wake once more ! " 
Yes ! when the hand of Spring shall kindly raise 

This snowy shoon from off Dame Nature's breast. 
These eyes that hunger so for them shall gaze 

Upon the beauteous flowers I love the best. 

And now 'tis Spring again — bright, balmy Spring ! 

And, sitting here to-night, I say of Death : 
'^*Ah ! it is not so grievous a thing 

To sleep the Winter's cold, white pall beneath — 



HEAR T ECHOES. 



If, in the end, the Father's loving smile 
Shall waken us from out the lowly dust. 

What matters the deep sleep we take the while ? 
These violets have filled my heart with trust I " 



IN THE DUST. 

We toil from the rise to the set of the sun. 

But the tasks of the earth-life never are done. 

We lay our plans, but they fail us quite. 

Our castles fall in a single night ; 

The days clasp hands with the days that are dead, 

And still we never are comforted. 

Our lives, O alas ! are not what they seem — 

We walk in a maze, for we live in a dream ; 

We hunger and thirst for what never may be. 

We long as the bird of the air to be free ; 

But the shackles of Fate weigh us down to the dust, 

The chain of our hopes is moth-eaten, and rust 

Is wearing its way to our hearts' very core. 

Alas, and alas ! for the fond dreams of yore ! 

Hopes still allure us we never can grasp ; 

Hands of our loved ones slip out of our clasp ; 

The turf of the kirk-yard long Summers has laid 

Over the beds that the Death-angel made — 

Graves whose dark shadows we had not foreseen, 

Us, and the sunlight, are looming between. 

me, and O me ! but I long for the day 

When the clouds that hang o'er us shall all roll away; 

1 long for the time when, life's ills being o'er. 
The spirit shall hunger and thirst nevermore. 



, HEART ECHOES, '_. 

JUBILATE. 

Breathe, whispering winds, the glad refrain ! 

Sing, birds ! O sing in glee ! 
I hear her feet upon the plain, 
Patter so merrily ; — 

The fair young queen, 
Whose robes of green 
Trail wide upon the lea. 

Go forth to meet her, little brook ! 

Kiss, kiss her dainty feet ; 
Hie swiftly on through grassy nook, 
And sing, " My sweet, my sweet ! 
Queen of the year. 
We need thee here 
To make our joy complete ! " 

Wake from your sleep, O dreaming flowers ! 

How can you slumber now. 
When Spring sends down her crystal showers, 
And winds from south-lands blow ? 
Wake, flowers, awake ! 
And fern and brake, 
Twine chaplets for her brow ! 



IF. 



If I could but subdue this wild unrest, 

If I could think and dream no more of thee, 

If I could still this voice within my breast, 
Forgetting, dear, the sad reality — . 



4 HEART ECHOES. 

That, severed by the cruel hand of Fate, 

Our lives on earth can never blend as one ; 

If, rather than these haunting words, " Too late ! " 
My lips could only say, " Thy will be done ! " 

I should be happier, I know — 

I wish each dreary hour that it were so. 

If hand of mine could curb the swooping wind, 

If I could stay the sun upon Sis march. 
If I could fashion chains wherewith to bind 

The stars forever to the sun-lit arch — 
Then, then, I might have hope to stay 

This tide of love that spurns control, 
And put thy wistful face away 

From out the gallery of my soul. 
But vain, so vain is my endeavor. 
As I have loved, so will I love thee ever. 



BORN TO-DAY. 

And still another bark set sail 
Upon the waves of being ; 

Though sunny calm or storm prevail, 
Guard her, Thou great All-seeing. 

Two dainty hands — I pray they may 
Not fail in grand endeavor ; 

Another precious soul to-day 
Set out for the Forever. 



HEART ECHOES. 

Dear unshod feet, dear feet so small, 
Just fashioned by the Graces ; 

O Father, grant that they may fall 
For aye in pleasant places ! 

The violet eyes e'en now have caught 
The light and shadows flitting ; 

Already on the throne of Thought 
Bright Intellect is sitting. 

We read to-day from page the first. 
Beginning life's sweet story; 

And joy her viewless wings have burst 
The swaddling-bands of glory. 

That from our mother-heaven the wings 
Of our best guardian angel. 

Have borne to us the bird that sings 
The songs of the Evangel. 

And while we kiss the dainty mouth. 
We sing, with hearts overflowing, 

" O blow, ye winds, or north or south, 
She shall not know you're blowing. 

" Ye may not pipe at best so strong, 
That ye have power to harm her — 
The little dainty bird of song 
Who dons to-day life's armor." 



HEART ECHOES. 



WAITING 



I KNOW it is Summer, but down in my heart 

The frosts of the Winter-time do not depart ; 

1 know that the flowers are a-bloom on the plain, 

That the dear, blue-eyed violets are with us again ; 

That the birds have returned from the tropical land, 

And in the green meadows the zephyrs are bland : 

But I heed not the chorus of winds or of birds ; 

I cannot interpret their beautiful words. 

My heart only questions, " Why is it, my sweet, 

That Summer should find me my joy incomplete ? " 

Are you sleeping, my darling, and sleeping so long, 
Your heart has forgotten Love's beautiful song ? 
Are you dreaming, my sweetest, and never of me, 
And ne'er of our hopes of the sweet yet-to-be ? 
Has another one wooed you with rapturous song, 
That your feet, O beloved, have tarried so long ? 
Do other eyes lovingly look in your own. 
And other lips whisper, " My beautiful one ! " 
That Summer should come, in her bonnet of blue, 
And find me still watching and waiting for you ? 



AS WE MAKE IT. 

I've seen some people in this life, 
Who always are repining. 

Who never, never yet could see 

The storm-cloud's silver lining. 



HEART ECHOES. 

There always something is amiss, 
From sunrise to its setting ; 

That God's hand made their map of life, 
They seem the while forgetting. 

And I have seen — a blessed sight 

To sin-beclouded vision — 
Some people, who, where'er they are, 

Make earth seem an Elysian. 
They always see the brightest side, 

The direful shadows never, 
And keep the flower of Hope in bloom 

Within their hearts forever. 

The one can make the sunniest day 

Seem wondrous sad and dreary; 
The o'ther smiles the clouds away, 

And makes a dark day cheery. 
This life of ours is^ after all, 

About as we shall make it. 
If you can vanquish grief and care, 

Make haste to undertake it. 



SUNLIGHT. 

Like a holy benediction 
The sunlight falleth down, 

And on my brow it lieth, 
A bright and golden crown. 



HEART ECHOES. 

With touch so warm and tender, 

It seems like a caress 
One loving me and trusting, 

Would give with a " God bless ! 

My heart has grown so joyful 

Beneath its kindly kiss, 
I question it — is Heaven 

A fairer land than this ? 



WEDDED. 

Heart linked to heart in each noble endeavor, 

Husband and wife, 
We're adrift, O my sweet, on the beautiful river — 

The River of Life. 

The shore of my girlhood, far back in the distance, 

Still I can see. 
But thou art beside me^ and seems my existence 

A heaven to me. 

The strong arm of Love has never yet failed me, 

Never, dear heart ! 
Nor thy faith, O my darling, when censure assailed 
me ! 

Life, when apart, 

Loses its sweetness. Joy's radiant flowers 

Bloom never for me, 
As lonely I walk through the desolate hours, 

Waiting for thee. 



HEART ECHOES. n 

With Faith for the pilot, and Love to cast o'er us 

The light of her smile, 
The waves of the River of Life, yet before us, 

Are sun-lit the while. 

There is naught in the past that is worth the regret- 
ting, 

My darling ; instead, 
Not a moment this hour we would fain be forget- 
ting 

Since we were wed, 

I fear not the storm-clouds that hover around me, 

Drifting with thee ; 
For the spring-time and summer of life yet have 
found thee 

Faithful to me. 

On, on to the shore of the blissful Forever, 

Husband and wife, 
Together we'll float down the beautiful river— 

The River of Life. 



WHAT OF MY LOVED? 

What of my loved in the Land of the Leal ? 

Star of the midnight, give answer to me ! 
Do they weep for the sorrows we earth-mortals feel, 

And smile when we sing one glad anthem of glee ? 



I o HEAR T ECHOES. 

Are the sorrows forgot that o'erburdened them here, 
In the joy that the turmoil forever is o'er ? 

Are the skies ever cloudless, the waves ever clear, 
That roll by the sands of the Beautiful Shore ? 

I have thought in my dreams that I wandered to 
them; 
I have felt the warm clasp of their love-thrilling 
hands, 
As together we walked o'er the sapphires that gem 
With lustre resplendent the gold-fretted sands. 

The hearts were all loyal, the friends were all true, 
That I found by the mystical, heavenly stream ; 

O, would that I, never had wakened to rue 

That my vision was only the sport of a dream ! 

I am thirsting to taste of the waters of bliss ; 

The kiss of my loved ones I'm longing to feel ; 
O, when shall I walk, from the shadows of this. 

To the land of the faithful, the Land of the Leal ? 



AT NIGHT. 

Out in the blue waves of the night, 

I see the shining prow 
Of the bright moon, whose oars of light 

Just touch the mountain's brow. 



HEART ECHOES. . , n 

Where, like a radiant, jeweled crown, 

It seems the while to rest ; 
Then, as the shades wing faster down, 

Drifts out toward the west. 

Some fairy sprite from Eden-land 

Has passed awhile before, 
And, dropping blossoms from her hand, 

Has starred the heavens o'er ; 
E'en now upon the shining pave 

Her sandal'd feet resound ; 
Her garments rustling in the nave 

Above makes sweetest sound. 

Below, the winds have, for the while, 
. Folded their wings in rest ; 
No one this hour can them beguile, 

Beckon they east or west ; 
For they are weary with the long 

And swift march of the day. 
And have, while they have hushed their song, 

Their viols laid away. 

O'er the horizon's hazy bar, 

Wrapped in her robes of light, 
I see the trembling Evening Star — ■ 

The warden of the night ; 

And, 'mong the cloud-ships sailing higher, 
The bright oars of the moon 

Flash in and out, like tongues of fire, 
As nears the midnight's noon. 



12 HEART ECHOES. 

When on Great Nature's master-lute, 

Night's fingers thus are pressed, 
The very soul of Song grows mute 

With ecstacy and rest. 
For, more than in the garish day, 

The bow of faith is given ; — 
God's finger, pointing out the way. 

Through starry gates, to Heaven. 



DELUSION. 

And the years that are gone, like the sands on the 

shore ^ 

Of a river whereon we once wandered of yore, 
Are swept from our reach, and beyond our recall. 
O my friend, let the footsteps of Memory fall 
Lightly and lovingly, where you and I 
Dreamed in the past of the sweet by and by ! 
Where are the hopes of those dreamers now gone ? 
One, in the shadows, is sitting alone, 
Waiting the time till the death- angel's wing 
From the land of Beulah a message shall bring : 
Bright is his grave, for the jewels of tears 
Love has been dropping there through the long 

years. 
Blue as his eyes are the violets that grow- 
Over his bosom. Dear friend, do you know, 
Sometimes I think, as I stand by his bed, 
That he whom I loved, and so mourn, is not dead ? 



HEART ECHOES. 



13 



For often and often, I start in surprise, 

Foolishly thinking I look in his eyes ; 

And I smile when I think I had fancied him dead, 

When he all the while had but pillowed his head 

On the green lap of Nature, a dreamer, and so 

He awakes with his dear eyes with love all aglow. 

The beautiful fancy I cannot resist ; 

And often, so often I've lovingly kissed 

The violets growing here close to my feet, 

Saying, " O joy, thou hast wakened my sweet ! " 

Ah, a blissful delusion my fancy but led ! 

He is dead, do you know ; O my friend, he is dead ! 

Gone are the dreams of the sweet by and by — 

I call to my love, but he makes no reply. 



THE OLD, OLD STORY. 

Where the star lamps aquiver hang high o'er the 
river, 

A lone woman stands. 
As though interceding — to the good Father plead- 
ing- 
Outstretched are her hands. 
So near the dark valley, where the pale legions 
rally. 

To ferry her o'er : 
From the fret of life fleeing, the dark shadows 
seeing, 

Just flitting before. 



H 



HEART ECHOES. 



With a smile reassuring, a voice so alluring, 

One wooed her, — ah, well ! 
'Tis the same old story ; in her youth's bloom and 
glory 

She listened — and fell ! 
As the world turned its shoulder, in shame she grew 
bolder 

And bolder, until 
Her crimes — they were many — the vilest of any, 

She sinned at her will. 

A creature of pleasure, she filled up the measure 

Of life without heed 
Of the still voice within her, who, yet for the sinner 

Did oft intercede. 
So passed the years by her, her only desire 

To revel in sin ; 
She forgot that she ever had other endeavor — 

This poor Magdalen ! 

Her fickle friends left her, when sin had bereft her 

Of beauty and grace ; 
And to-day not a vestige doth tell of its prestige 

Of form or of face. 
A cloud-ship fast sailing, the moon's face is veiling — 

How the waves are astir ! 
Ah ! that cry ; it is human : " Help ! help for the 
woman, 

Ere they close over her ! " 

The stars look with pity from over the city, 
The night bird shrieks forth ; 



HEART ECHOES. 



15 



While the Great Golden Dipper, we call Ursa Major, 

Drops low in the North. 
Unwept and unshrived, O the life that she lived ! 

Let us haste from the spot ! 
Since the waves have caressed her, the pain that 
oppressed her. 

The woman heeds not. 



DROWNED. 

Found in the river ! I stop with a shiver 

Of horror and dread ! 
Somebody's daughter, drawn up from the water, 
Pallid. and dead. 

Life's hot, restless fever, not long since did leave 
her; 

Her sins — at the best 
She remembers them not — gives them never a 
thought : 

Ay, let them rest ! 

With thousands to blame her, and none to reclaim 
her. 

What wonder Despair 
Led her down to the river 1 The kindly Peace 
Giver 

Has answered her prayer. 



1 6 HEAR T E CHOES. 

For her sake who bore her, lay the warm mantle 
o'er her 

Of pity and love ; 
(Too late to befriend her) ; God's mercy attend her, 

Storm-beaten dove. 

Lay a flower on her bosom, a poor withered blossom, 

Like her, now at rest ; 
For her white brow so chilly, no rose bring, or lily — 
The cypress is best. 

The coffin's dark cover the fair face lay over, 

Hiding within 
All that is human the while of the woman. 

Poor Magdalen ! 

So v/eak and so sinning, her deep shame beginning 

Far back in the years : 
Though ye know not, nor love her, drop kindly 
above her 

The tribute of tears. 

Tears for a sinner, though too late to win her 
From death or from shame : 

Nor lay in the casket — for the Lamb's sake I ask it — 
With her all the blame. 

For the dear sake of Jesus the Saviour, who sees us 

To error so prone. 
So weak and so human, O blame not the woman — 

The woman alone. 



HEART ECHOES. 



17 



Deceit 'twas that lured her ; her fond heart assured 
her 

He spoke only truth, 
Whose hand stole the blossom of peace from her 
bosom 

Far back in her youth. 

O'er the dusky eyes' splendor, once love-lit and 
tender, 

Death's curtain drops low. 
Saved now from all error, forgetting death's terror, 

And happier so. 

Lay the grave's grassy cover so kindly above her, 
Life's short story read : — 

Somebody's daughter, drawn up from the water, 
Pallid and dead. 



ALL I ASK. 

You are learning to forget me ! 

In your eyes I see the sign 
That the heart I long have worshiped. 

Is no longer, longer mine. 

You are learning to forget me ! 

Oh, my darling, how can I 
See the love that made my heaven, 

Drift me — ever drift me by } 



1 8 BE A RT E CHOES. 

You are learning to forget me, 

But it is no easy task ; 
Hide my face, O Earth, my Mother, 

Let me die — 'tis all I ask. 



ONE DAY. 

A dainty brook whose sandals' sheen 
Was edged about with fringe of green, 
With jeweled pendants hung between ; 

A meadow lying half in sun, 
With elm-trees growing thick upon. 
And a green forest further on- 
All made a picture fair to see ; .. 
None of a truth could brighter be 
Than that sweet June-day showed to me. 

And as beneath the grateful shade. 
Upon the carpet Nature made. 
The while my wearied head I laid, 

I heard the brooklet crooning sweet, 

It? dainty rhythm at my feet. 

And felt my heart with joy complete. 

Blue as the far and shining skies, 
My own looked into violets' eyes ; 
Those sweet, sweet flowers of angel guise. 



HEART ECHOES. 

The daisies 'side me had unrolled 
Their sheeny curtains, fold on fold 
Of spotless white, all fringed with gold, 

And lilies tossed their red caps high, 
As through the grass the wind swept by; 
And on the air so musically 

I heard the trill of many birds. 
Hymning quaint hymns not set to words- 
The sweet, glad song of wild-wood birds. 

I almost heard the tinkle of 

The blue-bells in the distant grove — 

A Te Deum of peace and love. ' 

Fast went the moments, one by one, 
Like golden sands too swiftly run, 
And lower, lower sank the sun. 

T^ike a great pendulum it hung. 
The fleecy, western clouds among. 
Then down 'neath the horizon swung. 

Swung out of sight, and came the Night, 
Turning the shining key of light, 
To lock the golden door so bright. 

And yet, the glory of that day 
Has never faded quite away. 
Still often to myself I say. 



19 



20 HEART ECHOES. 

That time, from out His diadem, 
God's hand did drop the brightest gem. 
In Nature's shining raiment's hem, 

No fairer stitch was ever set ! 
The day is dead, and yet, and yet, 
Its glory I shall ne'er forget. 



AGED TWENTY YEARS. 

Twice the Winter-time has folded 
His white mantle o'er her breast, 

Since, beneath the Autumn grasses, 
We laid Katharine to rest. 

Twice the swift feet of the Summer, 

Brightly shod with emerald. 
Have walked past, while she's been dwelling 

In the far, Celestial World. 

Two sweet Spring-times, with their tresses 
Studded thick with starry flowers. 

Have come to us and departed. 
Even as that friend of ours. 

In their chariots of glory. 

Autumns twain by us have rolled, 

Since we fashioned her low pillow 
'Neath the maple's leaves of gold. 



HEART ECHOES. 2 1 

Still she sleeps, the while unheeding 
Summer's rain, or sorrow's tears — 

She whose tomb bears this inscription, 
"Katharine, Aged Twenty Years." 



DRIFTING SEAWARD. 

Drifting seaward, from the shore, 

I shall touch, ah ! nevermore. 

Daily, of a very truth. 

Further from the verge of youth. 

We will take a backward glance 

O'er its beautiful expanse. 

Green Youth's bowers were, and fair, 

But a Nemesis was there. 

One who would not let me stay, 

Every night and every day 

Whispering like the voice of doom ; 

" Leave the beauty, leave the bloom ; 

Not for thee the opening rose. 

Not for thee the sweet repose. 

That thou hungerest for, ah no ! 

Down the tide thy boat must go." 

Spring's bright borders long since past, 

Drifting seaward, O, so fast ; 

Drifting further from the shore, 

I shall touch, ah, nevermore ! 

Drifting, drifting on the tide ; 
Youth, and bloom, and all beside, 



# 



22 HEART ECHOES. 

That made life so bright and fair, 
O, my heart, now vanished — where ? 
Ever now before my eyes 
Clouds loom high, and mists arise ; 
And the cruel, chilling blast, 
On my dusky locks has cast 
Threads of white, to testify 
All too plain, alas ! that I, 
Drifting out into the cold, 
O, so fast, am growing old. 
What is there to ease my pain ? 
Knowing I shall ne'er again 
See the flower of Youth for me 
Growing on life's blighted tree ! 
Chide me not, because I weep, 
Drifting out upon the deep ! 
Chilling storms about me wage, 
Drifting seaward to Old Age ! 



IN FAITH. 

I SAID of life — I will be brave 
To meet whatever may betide ! 
My heart, we will be satisfied, 

And never be to grief "a slave ! 

Its paths, I know, are at the best 

Bestrewn with thorns, and hedged about 
With weeds of woe ; but shall we doubt, 

And be of joy thus dispossessed ? 



HEART ECHOES. 

Nay, nay ! If still from day to day 

I cannot see the light, I will 

Be patient, or at least until 
Mine eyes can see the Better Way. 

And so my heart is brave, and has 
Full many a victory achieved ; 
Not as the dotard have I grieved, 

For hopes that never came to pass. 

But on, and on, and further on 

Each day toward the end destined, 
In faith I walk, and still do find 

Some hope to cheer, from sun to sun. 

The seasons pass me while I weave 

My wreath of hope, and come not back ; 
One after one adown Time's track, 

Go out of sight ; still I believe 

My life is better as it is. 

Than as my fancy may dictate ; 
Were I to quarrel thus with Fate, 

Life's greatest joy my heart would miss. 

For all of life that is the best, 

In sweet contentment may be found ; 
And I have walked on better ground 

Than you perhaps have ever guessed. 

If one should come to me and say, 
■ " Why are you thus so well content .'* 



23 



24 



HEART ECHOES. 

God in His mercy surely meant 
To have you walk another way ! " 

Yet would I with this hope abide, 
And will I to this faith adhere, 
Knowing that so year after year, 

I shall not be dissatisfied. 



NEVER GIVE UP. 

Never give up, and sit down in despair. 

Saying, " 'Tis no use to try ! " 
The clouds never lowered so darkly, but there 

Would be sunshine and light by and by. 
Never give up. If you do, you are lost 

In the mazes of sorrow's long night. 
Keep your heart cheerful, whatever the cost ; 

Keep your eyes looking the while for the light. 

Never give up, though Fate do her worst ; 

Did you ever yet know of a day 
That the night did not herald with darkness at first, 

And the darkness did not roll away } 
Never give up, and you fight the good fight — 

Of you none shall say, " He is lost ! " 
Keep your eyes looking the while for the light ; 

Keep your heart cheerful, whatever the cost. 



HEART RCHOES. 25 

SUMMER. 

The pen of Summer, diamond-tipped, 

Has busy been day after day, 
As one by one the hours have slipped 

Their beads upon Time's rosary. 
A few more days will tell them all — 

Her last sweet song will soon be penned ; 
As Summer verges close to Fall, 

The book is verging toward the end. 

Such beauteous songs of flowers and birds, 
Of leafy woods and babbling brooks. 

As she has fashioned in quaint words, 
• In this her choicest of all books. 

Her choicest of all books, I say, 
Because no summer gone before 

Has been so prized, day after day, 
My heart was fain to live it o'er. 

The truest Poet Nature is — • 

Hour after hour her skillful pen 
Thrills us to that ecstatic bliss. 

We never find in songs of men. 
Bound in the sky's own dainty blue, 

Each song a song of perfectness. 
Year after year, a volume new 

Is issued from her busy Press. 
This, slipping now from Nature's grasp, 

With rhyme and rhythm is so sweet. 
It only needs the golden clasp 

Of Autumn-time to be complete. 

2 



26 HE A R T ECHOES. 



THE OLD BARN ON THE GREEN. 

Wandering back through Memory's mazes, 

Down the circuit of the years, 
Standing there among the daisies, 

The old barn its roof uprears, 
Where, in Childhood's halcyon moments, 

I was chosen for your queen — 
'Neath the cobwebbed, old brown rafters^ 

Of the barn upon the green. 

Though my throne was but a barrel, 
And my carpet but a bag. 
And my jewels — ah ! old playmate, 
Of them now we will not brag — 

Though you'll grant those self-same jewels 
Wore I with a royal mien. 

When I played I was your sovereign, 
In the barn upon the green. 

What a band of bright-eyed subjects 

Had I in the golden noon ! 
It did always seem the master 

Rung his bell an hour too soon ; 
Though, at one o'clock precisely. 

We together could be seen 
Trooping through the half-oped doorway 

Of the old barn on the green. 

Those were happy days, old playmate ; 
But the years have left no trace 



HEART ECHOES. 

Of the pleasure of those moments 
On my wan, care- wrinkled face, 

Still I love, through Memory's mazes, 
On the arm of Thought to lean. 

And go back among the daisies, 
To the old barn on the green. 

To the days when, little children. 

We had never known a care — 
Ere the hand of Grief had scattered 

White snow-flakes among our hair. 
And I'm thinking, dear old playmate, 

Walking o'er the bridge between, 
That we spent our happiest moments 

In that old barn on the green. 



27 



THE BABY. 

Violet eyes blinking 
And looking so bright ; 

Of what are you thinking, 
I wonder, to-night .? 

How very demurely 
You look in my eyes. 

An angel you're surely, 
Affecting disguise. 

One week, little mortal — 
One week and a day 



28 HEART ECHOES. 

Since through Heaven's portal 
You wandered earth-way. 

Our hearts were so lonely, 
No charm could beguile ; 

But now if you only 
Will tarry awhile — 

Will list to our pleading 
To stay in the nest, 

Our hearts in the Eden 
Of rapture will rest. 

Hopes many are centered 
This fair casket in — 

The baby just entered 
Earth's valley of sin. 

O, when God is counting 
His flock in the end, 

When her feet up the mountain 
Of Life do ascend — 

May the soul find the portal 
It winged from the morn 

This little, wee mortal. 
Our baby, was born. 



HEART ECHOES. 



A PICTURE FROM NATURE. 

The pines all shiver with unrest, 

As solemnly and slow, 
The golden archer journeying west, 

Lays down his unstrung bow. 
The last, bright arrow even now. 

Unerring in its flight. 
Has pierced the towering mountain's brow, 

That sentineled the Night. 

Within her chamber dark and dun 

I hear her coming tread, 
As her fair handmaids, one by one, 

Their gems before her spread. 
Around her form a garment rare 

With 'broidery they fold, 
And in her flowing, dusky hair, 

They twine their bands of gold. 

See, how her royal tiara gleams, 

As skyward now we gaze ; 
So thick the gems are strewn it seems 

Her locks are all ablaze ; 
While, high up in the zenith swings 

The bright lyre of the moon. 
The night-winds toying with its strings, 

All golden, and in tune. 

Hushed into awe the while I stand, 
And feed my vision on 



29 



30 HEART ECHOES. 

The picture which the skillful hand 
Of Nature here has drawn. 

The Master Artist of the world, 
Whose canvas wide is spread 

In earth, and ocean waves unfurled. 
And the sky's blue scroll o'erhead. 



THE OLD MILL OF AUSTEND. 

It is a quaint old mill, low set 

Upon the water's edge. 
Whose languid motion scarce will let 

Its breastwork touch the sedge 
That hangs-its tasseled curtains out, 
Where, turning in, and slow about. 
The weather-beaten wheel all day 
Goes over in its humdrum way. 

Beneath the low-browed, mossy roof. 

The spider has her nest ; 
Here she has spun her warp and woof, 

'Till the brown beams are dressed 
In gossamer-like tapestry, — 
Like silver net-work 'tis to see — 
Unbroken, save where here and there 
The swallow's wings have cleft the air. 

The miller is an old man now, 

And white as winter snow 
The hair upon his furrowed brow. 

His threescore years and two, 



HEART ECHOES. 

He wears like one who sorrows much, 
One who has felt the cruel touch 
Of grief so long, he knows not when 
He's felt, at heart, like other men. 

Once, in the years now buried long, 

A bright-eyed wife he had ; 
And children three, with songs of glee. 

Made the old homestead glad. 
So fair their young brows were to see. 
So merry were their songs of glee ; 
The days were psalms from sun to sun, 
Alas ! where are they, every one ? 

Between the mill and the lone cot. 

Fenced in with tender care. 
There is to him earth's dearest spot, 

For she is sleeping there. 
Who made those days of manhood's prime 
Seem like a golden summer time ; 
And all around on every side 
Slumber the lambkins who have died. 

The miller's eyes are bleared and dim. 

And all too well I know. 
The wheel of life ere long, for him 

Will cease to turn below. 
Each day his step is slower grown, 
(One day the less to walk alone,) 
God soon will answer his one prayer, 
" O let me of their rapture share." 



31 



32 



HEART ECHOES. 

When stranger hands are at the wheel ; 

When, through her fihny lace 
The spider sees the sunlight steal, 

Missing the while his face ; 
When at the foot of yonder slope. 
The grave's dark door for him shall ope', 
The happiest moment will be here 
The miller's known for many a year. 



ABOVE ALL PRICE. 

A PEARL above all price it is, 

And yet we all may it possess; 
To the great lock of Happiness, 

It is, we willingly confess, 
The only Key; yet, strange to say, 

With eyes to earthly vision clear, 
We pass it by day after day, 

Week in and out, year after year. 

Grown rusty with its long disuse. 
We even throw the lock away 

As useless quite, and, seeming, choose 
To walk within the shadowed way ; 

When side by side, or parallel 
With it, there is a sunny track, — 

One bright as Heaven, one dark as Hell ! 

We choose arniss^ oft looking back 



HEART ECHOES. 

And chiding Fate for faithlessness, 

When we alone have been to blame ; 
This wondrous Key to Happiness, 

Of a sweet truth doth have a name, 
A name, and what a world of thought 

In these two simple words is meant ; 
By God's own skillful fingers wrought. 

Angels have named it. Be Content. 



33 



BE CONTENT. t 

Be content, what'er betide. 

While you dwell in earthly land. 

Thankful be, though little the 

Manna reached you from God's hand. 

Do not doubt His boundless love. 
Thinking that your share is small, 

He who feeds the raven's needs. 
Surely has enough for all. 

Be content, for only then 

Will you find the fount of Peace, 

And your lips will frame the song 
That shall never, never cease. 



"> 



Be no idler in the field. 
Be no laggard in the strife. 

Act, and with your every deed 
Show how grand a thing is life. 



34 



HEART ECHOES. 

What you planned to do to-day, 
Let the night not find undone ; 

Show how much your hand can dp 
From the rise to set of sun. 

In the vineyard of our King 
There is always work to do ; 

Not to throw the days away, 
Were they given unto you. 

With a grateful heart accept 
All the blessings He has sent ; 

In the shining spring of Peace 
Lies the jewel of Content, 

And whate'er may seem a loss, 

(As we see through sorrow's eyes,) 

All the griefs we have to bear 
Are but blessings in disguise. 



IRREVOCABLE. 

It was not you that I have loved, 

But what I thought you Avere; 
Truth always proves a faithful friend, 

And in the sepulchre 
So-called Forgetfulness, I've laid 

My shattered faith away. 
Ah, me ! to find my idol was 

The coarsest kind of clay. 



HEART ECHOES. 

And I have in my foolish heart 

Called you my love, and king ; 
E'en* most had put my fetters on, 

Clasped with a marriage ring. 
Though my good angel stood anear, 

Had given my trothal vow, — 
But that is past — not e'en a tear 

Have I to give you now ! 

Go, false one, for the world is wide, 

And drift away, away ! 
I will not say, " Would I had died 

Instead of this to-day ! " 
For I have learned at Wisdom's fount 

What seemed like gold, was dross ; 
What seems my gain, I cannot count 

In no wise as a loss. 



35 



THE VOICE OF THE WINDS. 

The wind came up from the east, to-day, 

And it sang me a tender song 
Of the home of my childhood, far away, 

That I left in the years a-long ; 
Of the lilac-trees, with their purple plumes, 

And the jasmine over the door, 
That used to sink, 'neath its many blooms, 

Low down to the sanded floor. 

It sang of a chamber, nine by ten. 

Where the apple-blooms fell in showers, 



36 



HEART ECHOES. 



In the sweet, sweet time of the dead past, when 
Earth seemed but a vale of flowers. 

Of a dark-eyed girl, with her soul agio' 
With the deathless fire of song ; 

Of the dreams I dreamed in the long ago — 
God pity me, O, how long ! 

It sang of a school-house, old and brown ; 

Of a hundred heads bowed low, 
As the teacher evoked a blessing down 

On his flock in the years ago. 
Of a merry group of laughing girls, 

Who never had known a care 
Above the hang of their silken curls, 

Or the braids of their shining hair. 

It sang of the chestnut's kindly shade, 

Of the joyous, gleeful shout ; 
Of the glad halloo ! and the loud din made 

By the boys, when the school was out. 
The merry boys of the olden days 

Are grown into stalwart men, 
And scattered half a hundred ways 

Are the girls that I loved so then. 

Some sit in their pleasant Inglenook 
E'en now, v/hile the east winds blow ; 

Stately and fair, but they do not look 
Like the girls of the long ago. 

The floating curls have been brushed away 
From over the thoughtful eyes. 



HEART ECHOES. 37 

And in their meshes perchance a stray- 
White thr.ead from Time's shuttle lies, 



Now the winds lull down to a sad refrain, 

And my heart stands still to hear, 
For it tells of those who so long have lain 

Low down with the flowers a-near. 
Of dear eyes closed in their dreamless sleep, 

And the white hands clasped for aye, 
Of our " loved and lost," but we do not weep 

For the dead alone to-day. 

There were promises made, but, alas ! not kept ; 

And eyes that we thought so bright. 
The tear-stained lids have so often swept, 

As to rob of their olden light. 
And the lips which never had known a song 

But one as glad as a bird's in June, 
Have blanched 'neath the anguished cry, " How 
long ! " 

Their hearts and their hopes all out of tune. 

But, forgetting all this, I love to think 

Of them best, as I knew them when 
There never was e'en one missing link - • 

That had dropped from Affection's chain. 
Of the days, when, a joyous-hearted girl, 

I never had known a care 
Above the hang of a silken curl, 

Or the braids of my shining hair. 



38 



HEART ECHOES. 



A LOVE IDYL. 



Fair was the earth, and blue the sky, 

A field of bloom the purple heather, 
As, listening to the lullaby 

Of the south wind, we walked together. 
Her dainty hand within my own 

Lay like a captured bird aflutter ; 
I bent to hear, so low her tone, 

The words her heart bade her to utter. 

In answer to my lover's plea. 

And, to my heart's so truthful story, 
I looked, her fair, sweet face to see. 

And it was flooded o'er with glory. 
The white lids o'er the tender light 

Within her eyes dropped like a curtain, 
But not before, with love's delight, 

I knew my earthly bliss was certain. 



SOLD. 



They mock me to madness, these white robes I wear ; 
I am drunken with anguish, am crazed with despair. 

On my forehead is branded the awful word, " Sold ! " 
I faint 'neath my fetters — my fetters of gold. 

Peace, honor, and all that made life a psalm. 
These, these I have lost — what a coward I am — 



HEART ECHOES. 



39 



Dreading the gaze of his worshiping eyes 

That look into mine still with love's sweet surprise ; 

Dreading the gaze of the bright, smiling crowd, 
And wishing these white robes instead were my 
shroud. 

Never had woman so hopeless a task; 

Can I hide all my woe with a smile-borrowed mask ? 

Among the swift dancers, he moves like a ghost, 
He who, God forgive me, my heart loves the most. 

I dare not, I dare not look into his eyes, 

When my soul is so stained with these horrible lies. 

I dare not, I dare not for one moment think 

Of the cup I have raised to my own lips to drink. 

He is coming, is coming, this bridegroom of mine ; 
God ! how the gems in my fetters do shine ! 

How the jewels that hold this white veil in its place 
Throw the red fire of shame all the while on my face. 

How they writhe in my tresses, and torture my brain ; 
Shall I ever. I wonder, know Peace once again ? 



40 



HEART ECHOES. 



PN TIME. 



The sun will Tise, and from the skies 

Bright arrows from his quiver 
Day after day will wing their way 

O'er valley, mount, and river. 

Flowers will bloom, their rare perfume 

Filling the air with sweetness ; 
Chime after chime, the bells of Time 

Will ring the year's completeness, 

Undimmed and bright, the stars of night 

Will broider all the ether, 
Till, as a scroll, God's hand shall roll 

The sea and land together. 

One after one, till Time is done 

His golden cycles swinging. 
The seasons all shall at his call 

Pass by, another bringing. 

Not so when we shall reach the sea, 
Beyond Death's darksome river ; 

From that blest clime no sweep of Time 
Shall bear us back forever. 

And yet — O, strange ! no sign of change 
Will tell the New Years whither 

The forms that moved, and lived, and loved, 
And shared their joys together 



HEART ECHOES. 

Have vanished to. Our earth adieu 
Not long the time will sadden ; 

New hopes will rise, and other eyes 
Old Mother Earth will gladden. 

But in the land so fair and bland, 

(Only across the river,) 
We shall find rest, and haply blest 

Know no more pain forever. 



41 



GRACE-A-DIEU. 

I HAVE been deaf, but now I hear — 

Love has within my breast 
Told her sweet story, and I am 

0, most supremely blest. 
Such rhapsody did never fall 

Before on mortal ear ; 
I have been deaf through all my days, 
But now, thank God, I hear. 

I have been blind — so very blind, 

The hand I could not see, 
Which has, in constant love and trust, 

Been outstretched unto me. 
Such a bright star above the path 

Where I have walked I find — 
I see the glory of it now, 

1, who so long was blind. 



42 



HEART ECHOES. 

I have been dumb, and could not speak, 

For knowing not Love's lore. 
Now I have learned it, dearest, and 

I will be dumb no more. 
The glory of a hundred springs 

Seem ever now in view, 
Since I learned what you are to me, 

And what I am to you. 



STEPPING-STONES TO GOD. 

Its tender leaves some careless hand 

Had rudely covered o'er; 
" It must be dead," I said ; '' I shall 

Behold it now no more." 
But lo ! when many days had passed 

A green leaf pierced the sod ; 
It struggled through, and bravely grew, 

Still higher toward God. 

" So like to Christian Faith," I said ; 

Though trodden in the dust 
By sorrow's heel, we can but feel 

The Father still is just. 
We climb upon the rounds of Prayer. 

And, where we shrinking trod. 
We now know was through Nature's laws, 

But stepping-stones to God. 



HEART ECHOES. 



43 



THOUGHTS AT NIGHT. 

Slowly now the clouds of amber 

O'er the blue hills roll away, 
As the feet of Night-tmie clamber 

Higher up the stairs of Day. 
While I'm sitting, so uncertain 

What the morn will bring to me, 
She has hung her dusky curtain 

O'er the valley, moor, and lea. 

High above the fields of vapor, 

Like a glowing beacon-fire 
Venus lights her nightly taper ; 

Than the fleecy clouds yet higher, 
Jupiter is proudly sitting 

On his skyey, golden throne. 
Where the myriad stars are flitting 

Round about the kingly one. 

White ships see I on the ocean; 

Shored about with green-capped hills. 
Sailing out in wild commotion, 

As the wind their canvas fills. 
While afar upon the mountain 

Walks the Spirit of the Dew, 
With her jeweled fingers counting 

The bright beads that slip them through. 

Gazing on the stars that twinkle 
High y/ithin the zenith's nave. 



44 HEART ECHOES. 

I can almost hear the tmkle 
Of their footsteps on the pave 

Leading to the streets immortal, 
Stretching, O, so far away, 

Into which, through some star-portal, 
I perchance shall walk some day. 

When Death's night comes, and its tidal 

Wave is sweeping over me, 
When these busy hands are idle, 

And this pulse shall silent be — 
May some bright-eyed angel-warden 

Back the shining gate-way roll, 
'Till I step across the Jordan 

Of an earth-o'erwearied soul. 

I would have the stars all beaming 

Just as brightly as to-night, 
When I waken from life's dreaming. 

In the land of peace and light, 
I would have the summer glory 

Just as bright o'er mount and lea. 
When Death shall his pleasing story 

Lowly whisper unto me. 

Nay, my friend, not in the garish 

Light of any earthly day. 
But when those I love and cherish 

Stand beside me, I can say, 
Lo, the stars are all at vesper ; 

While their bright lamps are agio* 
Angel voices to me whisper, 

Noiv it is that I would go ! 



HEART ECHOES. 45 



'NEATH THE BAN OF THE YEARS. 

That this world is a world of sorrow 
I have heard, aye, time and again, 

Why can we not look on the morrow 

Through sunshine as well as through rain ? 

Admitting 'tis so in all seeming — 
That the false are allied to the true. 

Shall we spend all our moments in dreaming, 
As though we had nothing to do ! 

Admitting it is full of losses — 
Of sorrow, of grief, and of care — 

Still the bright thread of Hope often crosses 
The sombre-hued one of Despair. 

And the world, after all, is as kindly 
As ever an earth-friend can be ; 

'Tis but to the ones who walk blindly — 
Who are too impatient to see 

The light as it slowly is dawning ; 

Who wake in the depths of the night, 
And cry, like a^child, for the morning 

To come in its garment of light — 

These only, I say, with compassion 

For all of their folly and sin, 
A pathway of briers do fashion. 

And blindly do wander therein. 



46 



HEART ECHOES. 



As the day comes the dreary night after, 
As Happiness walks close to Care, 

So comes to us moments of laughter 
To vanquish the ghost of Despair, 

And Happiness is for the choosing, 
Joy somewhere on earth we may find ; 

The ones, who, continually losing, 
Are always the ones who are blind. 

Let us banish the doubts that oppress us ; 

Let us sorrow no longer in tears ; 
There is much still to comfort and bless us, 

As we walk 'neath the ban of the years. 



SUNSET ON LAKE COMO. 

Behind the hills the sun had set, 
Tho' much of beauty lingered yet ; 
The western sky was still aflush 
With sunset's half unconscious blush : 
Crimson and purple, fold on fold 
Of ambient tints and burnished gold, 
Reflected in the Lake below. 
Made all its crystal waters glow, 
Until they seemed a heaving mass 
Of jewels in a sea of glass. 

The winds in restful slumber lay ; 
The cricket chirped not far away ; 



HE A RT E CHOE S. 47 

The bul-bul sat with folded wing 
High in the larch, and would not sing ; 
And ah ! methinks that beauteous night, 
The glory of the Infinite 
Shone out of heaven to show me 
How fair that other country be. 

Methought I saw bright angels, shod 
With sapphire, going up to God. 
I saw their brows of shining light, 
And heard their harping ; ah, that night 
I seemed a brief half hour to be 
Anear that glorious, bright city. 
Whose shining streets, so grandly fair, 
Lie in the fields of upper air. 

Her dusky curtain ere the night 
Had hung upon the wall of light. 
My soul was drunken with the bliss 
Half of that world, and half of this, 
And, kneeling there, in prayer, I said, 
*' Not night, it is the dawn instead ! 
The dawn of glory that exceeds 
By far my most expectant needs." 



48 



HEART ECHOES. 



ALL THAT IS LEFT. 



A DASH of rain on the window-pane, 

The sob of the solemn sea, 
And the beautiful Past — too fair to last, 

Comes back like a ghost to me. 
With a weird-like tramp through the Day's white 
camp. 

It comes to my heart and knocks. 
And the Key of Thought, by Remembrance wrought, 

Its wondrous door unlocks. 

O the hopes that are gone — that have drifted on, 

And over the sea of Fate ! 
O the joys gone by with that desolate cry, 

The saddest of all—" Too late." 
On the shore of the Lost, wrecks ruthlessly tossed. 

Is all that is left to me, 
Of the dreams that I dreamed, and the star that 
gleamed 

Once out of the sweet " To be." 



THE SHOES THAT NELLIE WORE. 

I HELD them in my clasp to- day, 

With many a tearful sigh. 
Those dear mementoes laid away 

Of happier days gone by. 



^ 



HEART ECHOES. 49 

O oftentimes these little shoes 

Have pattered on my floor ; 
But ah ! my Nellie's feet have use 

For them now nevermore ! 

And so they've empty lain, while Time 

Has numbered summers seven ; 
She had no need of them to climb 

The sunny slopes to Heaven, 
For, when Death with a ruthless hand, 

For pillage sought our bower. 
An angel from the Better Land 

Gathered the beauteous flower. 

Upon his loving breast he laid 

Our little dainty blossom. 
And she, I know, was not afraid 

To nestle in his bosom. 
For, while his wings the miles of space 

Did cleave in upward flight, 
The smile that lay upon her face, 

Mirrored her soul's delight. 

little empty shoes, although 
Our Nellie's precious feet 

Shall never come and never go 
■ Adown the village street — 
When school is out, and home again 
My little ones do come, 

1 say, " O heart ! shouldst thou complain ? 
She is 'Cn^ first one Home ! " 

3 



50 



HEART ECHOES. 

But, when at night my darlings kneel 

Beside my knee in prayer, 
How can my mother- heart but feel 

That Nellie should be there. 
And when I count each shining head, 

One, two, three, four, and five, 
I say, " There had been six instead. 

If Nellie were alive ! " 

And when I put the five small pairs 

Of shoes all in a row. 
When each dear lip has framed its prayers, 

I tearfully -will go 
To her closed drawer, and turn the key, 

To see in the same place. 
The little shoes that speak to me 

Of a long absent face. 

O, little empty shoes half worn, 

Just as they slipped her feet ; 
She will not need them night or morn, 

To walk the golden street. 
For sandaled with the purest pearl, 

And soled with chrysolite. 
By Jesus' side, our little girl 

That died is safe to-night. 



HEAR T ECHOES. ij j 



DO YOUR BEST. 

What though oft you're faint and weary, 

'Neath the burden that you bear, 
And life, dark, and sad, and dreary, 

Seems a desert everywhere. 
If the days when Joy'attended, 

Are to you forever o'er, 
God has surely you befriended ; — 

Do your best. He asks no more. 

Somewhere is the suri yet shining, 

O so bright, and still for you ; 
Somewhere 'mid the cloud's dark lining 

Golden sunbeams struggle through. 
Never yet had human sorrow 

Power to close for aye Hope's door ; 
With a brave heart for the morrow, 

Do your best, God asks no more. 

Do not spend days He has given 

In bewailing fancied loss, 
Ere the a-oimi be won for Heaven^ 

You viust hiwibly bear the cross. 
Even though dear ones without you 

To the Leal-land go before, 
God's strong arm is still about you, 

Do your best. He asks no more. 

Though the world your course may censure, 
Still your onward path pursue : 



5 2 HE A R T ECHOES. 

He who never dares to venture 
In life's work can nothing do. 

Even though the Past can never 
Your lost dreams of bliss restore, 

Make at least the grand endeavor 
To do right, God asks no more. 



THE RETURN. 

Out from the city's noisy din 
My footsteps have been led, 

And I to-day am walking in 
The paths I used to tread. 

I hear the rain of Autumn beat 

Upon the old roof-tree. 
As did it in the dead days, sweet 

As but dead days can be. 

But O, so changed the olden home ; 

Across the dear old floor 
The feet will never go and come : 

That came to me of yore. 

I list for voices soft and low 
As coo of Summer birds, 

But well, alas ! too well I know 
That they are done with words. 



HEART ECHOES. 

I only hear amid the eaves 
The swallow's plaintive call ; 

A lonely robin sits and grieves 
Beside me — that is all. 



Adown the grass-grown walk I go, 

With slow and solemn tread, 
With tearful eyes, and head bent low, 

As following the dead. 

In grave procession on before 

My boyhood's hopes I see, 
And, leading to the old home door, 

They there depart from me. 

For lo ! there is no voice or sound 
To cheer the wanderer's heart ; 

Grave silence reigns, and so profound. 
My tears unbidden start. 

Mother is dead — that I have heard ; 

Will sleeps in Italy. 
It must be long years since a word 

They can have heard from me. 

And in that time O God ! but War 
Has walked with direful tread 

Throughout the land ! My brothers — are 
They with the army dead .'' 



53 



54 



HEART ECHOES. 

Upon the well-worn sill I stand, 

And, faster than of yore, 
My heart beats as with trembling hand 

I open wide the door. 

A man whose locks are white as snow 

Looks up with eyes askance ; 
Ah, brother Tom ! do I not know 

You at the first swift glance ? 

And there we stood, I bronzed and gray, 
And Tom— he could not speak, 

But in the same old loving way, 
He bent and kissed my cheek. 

Kneeling with his dark eyes upraised. 

And full of joyful tears. 
He cried, " O Jasper, God be praised ! 

After so many years ! " 

Then hand in hand we sat us down, 

And on the rnoments flew ; 
The night looked in with sombre frown, 

And there we sat — we two. 

Sitting within the shadows there. 

How could I question him .? 
Once I half whispered, " O Tom — where,"- 

With tears my eyes abrim. 



HEART ECHOES. 55 

He left me for a moment then, 

And with a trembling hand 
Gave me a package — " They were men ! " 

Said I, " I understand ! " 



O me ! it needed not the stain 

Of crimson to tell me 
That James was 'mong the army slain, 

" But Charley — where is he ? " 

" His was by far a sadder fate," 

My brother Tom then said. 
" Ah ! his reprieve it came too late ! 

One of the Libbey dead 

We say of him ! " O God," I said, 
" How fares it v/ith the other ? " 

Tom laid his hand upon my head. 
Saying — " Have courage, brother, 

To hear the rest. Our John, you know, 

A hero ever was. 
And O, it was a gallant blow 

He struck in the good cause. 

He did not deem the sacrifice 
Too great, believe me, brother. 

His good right arm did not suffice 
To ever strike another. 



56 



HEART ECHOES. 

He fell at x^nlietam, where 
So many eyes grew dim." 

" And father," said I, " do not spare 
My heart — and what of him ? " 

" Ah, Jasper, is there need to tell ? 

He bore a martyr's part. 
And bore it bravely, but — ah well ! 

At last it broke his heart." 

The stars came out and solemnly 
The lattice pane looked through, 

And found us sitting — Tom and I, 
For aye alone — we two. 



GRANDMOTHER VANE. 

Grandmother Vane in the firelight is sitting, 

But her thoughts are away in the beautiful past. 
Visions of gladness before her are flitting. 

Visions by Memory's firelight o'ercast. 
Ah ! it's many a day since I've seen her so smiling, 

Beautiful pictures indeed she must see ; 
Thoughts that her heart from the Now is beguiling, 

And in fancy, again she is Isabel Lee. 

Dropped from her knitting her white hands are idle, 
Backward, far backward, Thought's footsteps are 
led; 

Again she is plaiting her hair for her bridal, 
Just as he loved it, — white roses instead 



HEART ECHOES. 



57 



Of rich orange blossoms she twines in its meshes, 
For her dress it is simple, her kirtle is plain ; 

Glad tears for the moment bejewel the lashes 

That droop o'er the blue eyes of Grandmother 
Vane. 

A tremulous " I will ! " by the inglenook spoken, 

A promise to honor, to love, and obey ; 
By deed or by thought has never been broken 

5^116 vows that she plighted that blossoming May. 
Down through the years where love's sun shone in 
splendor. 

Hand clasping his, she is vralking again, 
(Ne'er was a lover more loyal and tender 

Than he who is waiting for Grandmother Vane). 

Then love's tree at her feet dropped a beautiful blos- 
som. 

And again, and again, until sunny heads seven, 
One after another, were laid on her bosom, — 

(Three budded on earth but to blossom in Heaven.) 
Now into the eyes of the pale watcher v/aiting, 

Cometh the mist from the river of Pain, 
Tears which the full tide of joy was belating. 

Drop from the dear eyes of Grandmother Vane. 

Three boys of the flock grew to manhood's estate, 
John, William, and Joseph, and noble men, too. 

Then " the flower of the valley," their sunny-eyed 
Kate, 
The doorway of womanhood softly passed through. 



58 



HEART ECHOES. 



Eyes like the violets down in the ledges, 
Spirit so lovely, to know her was gain ; 

Heart like the song of wild birds in the hedges, . 
Such was the daughter of Grandmother Vane. 

Alas, and alas ! for the hope-promise given 

Of a long life before her ; with daisies o'ergrown 
Is her bed in the valley. " Kate, aged twenty-seven," 

Sums it all up on the moss-covered stone. 
Often, and often, that grave has been watered 

With drops that were never the dew, nor yet rain . 
Year after year bright flowers have been scattered 

There by the dear hands of Grandmother Vane. 

And there close beside her is Grandfather sleeping, 

He, who has gone to Beulah before. 
Here, in the firelight, her watch she is keeping 
Till her hand clasps the hand of her darling once 
more. 
But her feet down the valley can take her no longer, 

She feels so a-weary, but ne'er will complain, 
And she says, " I shall be in the Spring-time much 
stronger," 
Ah, the Spring that is coming to Grandmother 
Vane. 

She looks on the forms of her children about her. 
And says, " All his boys are so manly and strong." 

But Grandmother Vane — we must soon do without 
her, 
We shall miss the dear light of her presence ere long. 



HEART ECHOES. 59 

Yes, yes, in the Spring-time I know she'll be stronger, 
'Tis a Spring that shall rob her of every pain, 

But we hail not its coming, for with us no longer 
Will sit in the firelight dear Grandmother Vane. 



BABY'S DRAWER. 

Inscribed to my dear and only sister, Mrs. Louise Wither. 

I WONDER if she'll have a name 

In that blest country far away, — 
The little blue-eyed one, who came 

To us, and went away to-day ? 
If so, I hope the angels will 

Give her as sweet a one as we 
To her had given had she lived ! 

I wonder what her name will be ? ' 

Day after day my hands upon 

The dainty robes of white had wrought, 
And O, how sweet the little one 

Will look when thus arrayed ;. I thought ! 
One after one, was frock and band 

Completed, and laid out of sight. 
I would not let a careless hand 

Work on the folds of .spotless white. 

But wrought in quaint embroidery, 
The fairest flowers I could find ; — 

And O, they were a sight to see, 
Within the upper drawer enshrined. 



■# 



5o HEART ECHOES. 

That one was " baby's drawer," you see. 

" My baby's drawer ! " I oft would say, 
As lovingly I turned the key — 

Ah, well, the baby came to day ! 

How pretty she did look, O me ! 

Robed in her dainty dress of white, 
I had not thought that I should see 

Her so arrayed ere came the night ! 
Her little hands upon her breast. 

Tied with a ribbon white as snow ; 
It was not thus I would have dressed 

My little baby girl, I know. 

I oft will wonder as I sit, 

My empty hands so mutely crossed, 
If after all my sweet hopes, it 

/f. better to have loved and lost. 
If it is better that her feet 

Should learn to walk in Heaven instead 1 
I know no thorns bestrew the street 

Wherein my little girl shall tread. 

But O, to find my dreams of bliss 

Have after all but come to naught ! 
That days and weeks, it was for iJiis^ 

My hopeful hand so tireless wrought. 
Aye, you may turn the shining key. 

Hiding from sight each dainty dress ; 
Death's hand has turned the key 'tween me 

And sweetest dreams of happiness. 



HEART ECHOES, 6l 



PULL YOUR OWN WEEDS. 

If you've weeds in your garden, my dear friend, I pray, 

Do not stand looking over the fence, 
To your neighbor's domains — ^just over the way — 

Your own are the most consequence. 
Uproot them while yet there is daylight to work, 

Tear them up, root and branch, from your soil ; 
They are sure to do mischief, so I pray do not shirk ; 

You'll be amply repaid for your toil. 

The advice would apply to the Garden of Life, 

'Tis so seldom we see our own weeds — 
For watching a neighbor, or, worse yet, his wife, 

And counting their many misdeeds. 
We pass our own follies, our faults we disguise 

In the garments of selfish conceit. 
We're ever perfection, (in our own eyes,) • 

But O I for the sinners we meet I 

Let us pull our ow7i weeds, and work with a will 

While yet there is one to be found. 
Nor point o'er the way in derision until 

We have carefully tilled our own ground. 
For, watching the faults of others we see 

Not the ones in our own hearts so rife ; 
Let us pull for ourselves — let other's weeds be, 

Till we clean our own Garden of Life. 



52 HEAR T ECHOES. 



RE-UNITED. 

Where the maple's dusky shadows 

Fringe the hill-side's emerald breast, 
In the nook the sweet-voiced warblers 

Love in Summer-time the best, 
Deep within the voiceless chamber 

Which the grave had opened wide, 
Laid we her, who on the morrow 

Had been Egbert Welmer's bride. 

When the last sad rites were over, 

And all else had turned away. 
He, whose heart her troth was keeping, 

In the silence knelt to pray. 
With the sunlight on his forehead. 

Drifting through the leaves o'erhead, 
Egbert Welmer in his sorrow 

Lingered by his sainted dead. 

Twilight deepened on the mountains. 

One by one the stars came forth, 
While the great light, Ursa Major, 

Swung his dipper in the north. 
And the damp dews swift descended 

On his white, uplifted brow. 
Starring o'er the while the blossoms 

On the green-sward just below. 



HEART ECHOES. ()i^ 

Thus they found him in the morning, 

When the solemn night had flown ; 
But his heart was past all sorrow, 

And his lips v/ere past all moan. 
He had joined her on the mountain 

Of Eternal Life afar ! 
Going out with footsteps silent 

As the footsteps of a star. 



MY PICTURE GALLERY. 

Such beautiful, beautiful pictures, 

Surpassing those of art, 
I keep in the sunny chambers 

Of the palace of my heart. 
Some are of smiling faces. 

Some are of pastures green, — 
Well loved and remembered places, 

And face: that I have seen. 

And so in Summer or Winter 

I am never quite alone. 
For here whatever the weather, 

I have a world of my own. 
All over the precious chambers. 

Having its own sweet way. 
The vine of Memory clambers, 

Blossoming night and day. 



64 



HEART ECHOES. 

I love to look at these pictures 

Surpassing those of art, 
As they hang in the sunny chambers 

Of the palace of my heart. 
Pictures of smiling faces, 

Pictures of pastures green, 
Well loved and remembered places, 

And faces that I have seen. 



THE LAND OF THE EAST. 

We are journeying on to partake of the feast 
Which a Father's hand has spread, 

For we go from here to the Land of the East, 
When the world shall call us " dead." 

Our footsteps tend toward the rising sun. 

Which never a cloud doth mar ; 
And Christ shall place, when the race is done. 

On our brow the morning star. 

We shall lave our feet in the placid tide, 
And our pain will be washed away, 

For pain or care doth never abide 
In the realm of His perfect day. 

What though our suffering hearts beat here 
'Neath the thrall of affliction's tears; 

There, never a care, nor never a fear 
Shall be ours in the blessed years. 



HEART ECHOES. 



65 



Our hearts are athirst for the wine of bliss, 

We long to partake of the feast 
That is spread for the sorrowing hearts of this 

Sad land, in the Land of the East. 



MY CASKET OF PEARLS. 

An angel came down in the beautiful night, 
Came down through the gateway of gold ; 

His wings through the darkness plowed furrows of 
light, 

And never a moment he paused in his flight 

Till he neared our low cot. With a mother's delight 
I had counted my treasures. All told 

There were three priceless gems in my casket of love 

Three jewels my Father had given. 
There was Maggie, and Winnie, my gentle-eyed dove, 
And a sweet little seraph sent me from above ; 
Of one Christ had said in His infinite love, 

" Of such is the Kingdom of Heaven ! " 

The angel of light sang a beautiful song. 
And the room where my jewels all lay 
As I fancied secure in love's casket so strong, 
Seemed peopled the while with an angelic throng. 
As though shining white feet passed its portals along 
And 'twas bright as the sun at noon-day. 



66 HEAR T E CIIOES. 

A short hour he tarried, this angel of light, 

But an hour did he tarry with me. 
Then he soared far away in the shadowy night, 
But not till I counted his jewels so bright : 
One more had been added. His song of delight 

It surely no sorrow portended to me ! 

I bent o'er the sleepers — my sad heart the while 

Filled with fear undefined for my casket of pearls, 
My Maggie, dear pet, in her innocent guile. 
The angel had lured with his wondrous smile — 
Had gone to that land that lies mile upon mile 
In the country beyond, my sweetest of girls. 

Again did the angel of light make his way 

To the room where my treasures lay closely en- 
shrined ; 

'Twas a beauteous night in the sweet month of May, 

When he looked in upon where my two jewels lay ; 

A moment of dread, then his step died away, 
In the casket I only one jewel could find. 

Once again — only once — did the bright angel say 
" Come ! " Ah me, then my casket was empty and 
bare ! 

In his pity for them he had taken away 

Every one to be set in Eternity's Day. 

They are Thine, O my Saviour, thrice blessed alway 
Are the priceless heart-jewels I gave to Thy care. 



HEART ECHOES. 



A TE DEUM TO GOD. 



67 



With noiseless fingers now the dark-eyed Night 
Has donned her robe with gleaming gems bedight, 

And placed her jeweled crown 
Upon her dusky tresses, while 
With feet that tread o'er many a mile - 

Of emerald turf, she walks adown 
The quaint old aisles of Earth, where southern winds 

have trod, 
All day the while they sang a Te Deum to God. 

Over the forest arches, pulsing to the tune 
Of fleet-winged zephyrs, the red moon 

Hangs like a burnished shield ; 
And, where yon white clouds wing their flight 
Through the still corridors of night. 

From our sight half concealed, 
Sits Ceres, her brilliant robes of light already on, 
In which she meets the bright-eyed visitant, the Dawn. 

Lapsed into blissful rest, I dream*, until 
I hear the whistle of the Whippoorwill 

Afar off in the wood, 
While now and then the owl's " Too Whoo," 
Awakes the slumberous echoes through 

The leafy solitude. 
And Orion, from the boundaries of space, 
Looks down again on me with bright and smiling face. 



68 HEART ECHOES. 

VOICES IN MY HEART. 

At times when all the world is still, 

Strange guests my warm heart-chambers fill ; 

Sweet faces, peering through the mist, 

Raise up their white brows to be kissed ; 

While unseen fingers touch the keys 

Of old and pleasant rnemories ; 

And in the dusk I seem to hear 

Such tones as ne'er on mortal ear 

Did fall before. I seem to see 

White, spectral hands held out to me ; 

I see, or seem to see, bright eyes 

O'erflooded with a glad surprise, 

While voices, tender as the coo 

Of birds, sing all the twilight through. 

My heart is like a deep-toned bell ; 
An anthem now, and now a knell, 
The ringer Thought awakes therein. 
The echoes thrill me with a pain. 
Too exquisite for human speech 
Unto the world to ever reach. 
Dost wonder, then, when twilight lays 
Upon the earth her purple haze, 
I turn from smiles of human ken. 
To clasp the hand of Thought again ? 
And, chide me not, if I have seemed 
Too oftentimes as one who dreamed. 
O chide me not, you cannot know 
What were my dreams in long ago. 



HEART ECHOES. 

You, who no heart do have to make 
The dead past dear for Memory's sake, 
Leave me to walk this little way 
Unfettered by the cares of day ; 
Leave me from all the world apart. 
To hear the voices in my heart. 



69 



WHEN THE SUN SHALL CROSS THE LINE. 

When the sun shall cross the line ; 

So I say with breath ahush, 
As I listen to the song 

Of the little brown-winged thrush. 
• I have sorrowed long, but now 

I no longer can repine. 
For he's coming — coming heart, 

When the sun shall cross the line. 

Years agone he left me here. 

With his kisses on my lips ; 
Now Joy's sun shines bright again — 

Passed from out that drear eclipse 
By that message signed by him 

With that precious " Ever thine," — 
Just above it " Look for me, 

When the sun shall cross the line." 

Never did the sunlight seem 

Half so bright to me before, 
As, with longing eyes I stand, 

Waiting, love, upon the shore, 



76 HEART ECHOES. 

With these sweet words on my lips, 
Words that faith has made divine, 

" I am coming, look for me 

When the sun shall cross the line.* 



BABY IS DEAD. 

See the sweet flowers her bosom adorning, — 

Soft be your tread ; 
In the calm hush of this beautiful morning 

Baby is dead. 

Only last night she was blithesome and merry,, 

Gay as a lark ; 
You said " O how fair," and I answered you " Very, 

Very ; " O hark ! 

List ! while your lip to her own fondly presses. 

Never a breath 
Cometh to cheer us ; — all our caresses 

Give we to Death. 

Blue as the violets down in the meadow. 

Friend, were her eyes ; 
Now, O my God ! what a wonderful shadow 

Over them lies. 

Night ! had ye only have given me warning, 

Only have said — 
I^ips, ye shall sob in the hush of the morning, 

Baby is dead. 



HEART ECHOES. 

O but to find her so close to my bosom, 

Pallid, and stark, 
The hand of Death to have stolen my blossom 

Here in the dark ! 

None but a mother can measure my sorrow ; 

Soft be your tread. 
Cometh no bird-song for me on the morrow, 

Baby is dead ! 



71 



THOUGHTS. 

SUGGESTED ON READING JOHN HAY'S " THE ADVANCE 
GUARD," BEGINNING : 

" In the dream of the northern poets the brave who in battle die 
Fight on in shadowy phalanx in the field of upper sky, 
And as we read the sounding rhyme the reverent fancy hears 
The ghastly ring of the viewless swords, and the clash of spectral spears." 

'Tis a weird and a ghostly fancy, and it lacks the 

power to please ; 
Not even a poet can unveil God's solemn mysteries ; 
But I love to think of those heroes brave — that our 

noble army-slain, 
With death laid down the bloody sword to take it up 

never again. 

Never in dreams of those soldiers true my reverent 

fancy hears 
" The ghastly ring of the viewless swords, and the 

clash of spectral spears." 



72 



HEART ECHOES. 



Never, O nevermore I think of those gallant, gallant 

souls. 
Where on the air the reveille in its solemn cadence 

rolls. 

That they strive for Truth and Right as here, most 

freely will I grant, 
But not on an enemy's fortress top the old flag they 

would plant. 
For 'mid the splendor that prevails in those fields of 

upper air. 
They are as brothers every one, — 7io enemy is there. 

Was it not time for rest and sleep when the pulse for- 
got its tune, 

And the soldier-heart no longer beat to the old field- 
martial rune ? 

When the eye grew blind to earthly sights, and the 
ear grew deaf to call. 

And the wing of Azrael lay upon their senses like a 
pall ? 

First of the noble martyr- slain, Ellsworth ! O, brave 

and true. 
Over the trackless miles of space our thoughts go out 

to you ! 
And Putman, and Shaw, of the hero souls, and Ulric 

Dahlgren brave ; 
Ah ! the flowers of Memory we have strewn to the 

brim of each hallowed grave. 



HEART ECHOES. 73 

But with my heart it is a feast of pure delight to-day 
That little it matters in heaven who wore the blue or 

who wore the gray ; 
That, free from war and its direful ills, out into the 

better life 
They carried none of the feud they held, and none of 

the deadly strife. 
******* 

'Tis a ghostly fancy at the best, and it lacks the power 
to please ; 

Whatever their hands find now to do is one of God's 
mysteries ; 

But never and never my soul can think that the beau- 
tiful Land of Leal 

Has seen the flash of a bloody hand, or the gleam of 
the murderous steel. 



BEYOND THE STARS. 

Beyond the stars, beyond the stars ! 

What flowery fields are spread 
Beyond the blue and golden bars 

That arch the dome o'erhead ! 
What sylvan grots where we may rest 

From all life's vexing cares ! 
O, I, methinks, would be so blest 

To climb the unseen stairs ! 
4 



74 



HEART ECHOES. 

I long to tread the pearly shore 

Where mortal ne'er has trod, 
That I may know a pain no more, 

And dwell for aye with God. 
I stretch my hands in mute despair ; 

No angel stoops to save. 
But Hope so gently whispers, " There 

Is rest beyond the grave." 

And so the grass is growing green 

Above the little spot 
Where, underneath its tasseled sheen, 

I'll sleep, and be forgot. 
But if Death's hand will lead me there, 

Where I so long to go, 
This heart will never more despair, 

Heaven lies beyond^ I know. 



IN THE TWILIGHT. 

The twilight hour is here again, 
O friend, beloved and true ! 

The time that always brings me sweet 
And tender thoughts of you ! 

It is the hour you like to touch 
The quick responding keys, 

And for the little while commune 
With olden memories. 



HEART ECHOES. 75 

I seem to see you in the dusk, 

Your head in sorrow bent ; 
While tears fall fast upon the white 

Keys of the instrument. 

And while the tide of memory sweeps 

Across life's prayerful sea, 
I know you never fail to think 

The little while of me. 

And O, the thought somehow awakes 

The birds of hope to song, 
That your dear feet will walk beside 

Mine own again ere long ! 

O, dear frier.d, in this hour so blest. 

Our souls no fate can part ; 
There is no spell these blissful dreams 

Can banish from my heart ! 

I almost see your love-lit face, 

Your eyes of pansy blue, 
Such tender and such blessed thoughts 

The twilight brings of you. 



OCTOBER. 

The harvest moon is growing pale ; 

The grasses withered are and sere ; 
Farewell, September, and all hail ! 

Thou fairest month of all the year ! 



^6 HEART ECHOES. 

Away in the secluded glen, 

The owl sends forth his quaint " Too whoo, 
And far remote from haunts of men, 

The partridge beats his loud tattoo. 

The song of birds we do not hear 

So often in the glen ; 
Save now and then the notes so clear, 

Of some belated wren ; 

And save the piping of the jay, 

Up in some gnarled oak tree, 
There is no glad sound heard to-day, 

Of song-birds' minstrelsy. 

The brown nuts fall upon the ground, 

With patter soft and low ; 
Gay banners hang the trees around, 

The mount, and vale below. 



Over the dead leaves of the birch, 
The rabbit swings with agile bound ; 

The squirrel from his leafy perch 
Looks askantly around. 

As though in wonder why the air 
Had grov/n so strangely chill, 

And why such colors flaunted where 
The green did on the hill. 



HEART ECHOES. 77 

Each flower into its tiny cell 

So timidly has crept, 
Scarce leaving e'en one trace to tell 

Where the Frost King has stept. 

A golden glow hangs over all, 
Making above compare 

The gorgeous m.antle which the Fall 
Does so delight to wear. 



EACH DAY WILL ITS LABOR- BRING. 

Idler in the field of Life, 

Is there nothing you can do ? 
When Sin cuts such mighty swaths. 

Is there no work left for you ? 
Up, I pray, and act your part 

Bravely on life's busy stage, 
That your record, when 'tis done, 

Bear no blot on any page. 

Act, so when the curtain falls. 

And the last, last play is done, 
A whole world may you applaud : 

Saying, here, indeed, was one 
Who has wrought his share of good ; 

Here was one who, working, fell ! 
Act so that the angels e'en 

Can proclaim, " He has done well." 



78 



HEART ECHOES. 

There is always work to do — 

Life's race is so short at best, 
That 'tis little time we have 

To pay court to ease and rest. 
Each day will its labor bring ; 

From the rise to set of sun, 
Though you're toiling, much will yet 

In the end be left undone. 

Here and there we see them fall, 

Soldiers noble, brave and true ; 
Be their labor incomplete. 

There is still more work for you. 
Only do the best you can, 

Thai is all God asks of you. 
To your conscience, as to man, 

Always proving just and true. 



WORLD-WEARY. 

I AM weary of the world, of its folly and deceit, 
I am weary of the praise that its flatterers repeat. 

I am weary of the smiles, hiding so much pain within, 
On the many, many faces in the cavalcade of sin ; 

Of the serpent Calumny, which its hydra-head up- 

rears. 
Trailing wide its deadly venom, trampling down the 

golden years. 



HEART ECHOES. 79 

I am weary of the homage rendered unto sordid 

Pelf, 
Of the better hopes forever laid upon Time's dusty 

shelf. 

I am, O so weary, thinking of the hours that we 
have lost ; 

Of the precious, precious moments we've into Obliv- 
ion tossed, 

That I often think the kindest boOn accorded to 

our lot. 
Is the sleep where we, not only, but our follies are 

forgot. 



I HAVE DREAMED. 

I HAVE dreamed in my dreams of the city so blest. 

Where the heart drinks its fill from the Fountain of 
Rest ; 

Where the walls are of jasper, and the gates do re- 
flect 

The unclouded faces of God's own elect. 

I have journeyed afar through their portals, and, lo ! 

I have revelled in joys of the dear long ago ; 

For there did my arms in their longing enfold 

The friends of my youth — in the City of Gold. 

In my untroubled dreams of this land of the blest, 
My soul has been drunken with infinite rest. 



8o HEART ECHOES. 

No music has been to my ear half so sweet 
As the echoes I heard from the fall of the feet 
Of the ones who, grown weary long summers ago, 
Crossed the tide whose dark waves in their mystical 

flow 
Bore them out to the Shepherd who guardeth his fold 
In the beautiful city — the City of Gold. 

I have dreamed, and my dreaming to me was so real 
That their kisses so warm on my lips I could feel. 
I have said, " Fare thee well, O moments of dearth, 
Ye only belong to the dwellers of earth !" 
I have seen sweeter visions than pen can portray. 
In the land where my lost ones are dwelling to-day ; 
But the half of the glory can never be told, 
Of the beautiful city — the City of Gold. 

Only then will the joy of our hearts be complete. 
On the day when we, too, reach its beautiful street ; 
When the fetters are broken that bind us to earth. 
And we taste of the bliss of our heavenly birth. 
Then, then we no longer shall hunger and thirst, 
" For the first shall be last, and the last shall be first ;" 
Where friendship is true, and love never grows cold, 
In the beautiful city — the City of Gold. 



HEART ECHOES. 8 1 



SEED-TIME AND HARVEST. 

The day that oped so fair to me, 

This hour has passed away ; 
And hopes that lured me in the morn, 

I question, where are they ? 
Tell me, O Night, where have they flown ? 

I reap no harvest, though long since 
My golden seed was sown. 

I see the reapers hurry by 

O'erladen with their store ; 
They sing the joyous harvest-song 

Which I shall sing no more. 
My wain is empty, shall I sing. 

When all the hopes that lured my heart 
Are buried with the Spring .? 

The frosts of sorrov/ heavy press 

Their weight upon my brow. 
As in the dark and solemn night 

My weary head I bow. 
Saying, " It still is written plain. 

The seed of Truth my hand has sown 
Will yet bear golden grain." 

When my tired hands have ceased their toil, 

And I, o'erwearied, sleep ; 
When all of life seems buried there 

Within the silence deep, 



82 HEART ECHOES. 

Then will my hour of triumph be ; 

What you will call the sleep of death. 
Is harvest-time to me. 



SONG 



Come, for my heart is calling, 

Come to our bower to-night ; 
Come when the dew is falling. 

Come when the stars are bright. 
Come when the moon is gleaming 

Clearly athwart the blue ; 
Come when the birds are dreaming, 

Come, if thy heart is true. 

Come, I am sad and lonely. 

Waiting for thee so long ; 
Come to our bower, if only 

To list to one little song. 
Come when the moon is beaming 

Clearly athwart the blue ; 
Come when the birds are dreaming, 

Come, if thy heart is true. 



IN WINTER. 

Out on the moorlands the north wind is blowing ; 

Over the ridges arid valleys below 
The sovereign. Winter, is recklessly throwing 

Bright jewels of frost from his kirtle of snow. 



HEART ECHOES. 



83 



White are the locks of the sturdy new comer ; 

His eyes with the north wind are misty and 
bleared ; 
Where a few weeks agone reigned the beautiful 
Summer, 
He walks with the frost-gems agleam in his beard. 

I remember so well how the x^utumn-time flushed 
When she heard the low tread of his feet from afar ; 

Her hymn of rejoicing was long ago hushed ; 
Her song-birds — I know not wherever they are. 

From the land of the Esquimaux far to the nor 'ward, 
Where the sunbeams no warmth on the tall gla- 
ciers throw, 

Sent he his sturdy frost-heralders forward, 
Far in advance of his column of snow. 



While the midnight her masses so solemn was 
holding. 
They fettered each brook that their footsteps 
crossed o'er, 
'Til a mantle of crystal the while was enfolding, 
With jewels pinned close to the grassy-fringed 
shore. 

Such strange, quaint devices we found in the morning 
Ere the sun set his feet on the stairs of the sky ; 

Such fanciful pictures our windows adorning — 
Such beautiful landscapes to gladden the eye ! 



84 IJEA RT E CHOE S. 

The door of the morn, on bright golden hinges, 
Swings open, and through its wide portal we see 

The net-work of frost that exquisitely fringes 
The verdure that grew on the upland and lea. 

The evenings grow longer for song and for story ; 

Behind is the Autumn, before us the May; 
Before us the Spring-time, her garments of glory 

Shall trail o'er the grasses now hidden away. 



NOTHING BUT LEAVES. 

Nothing but leaves ; no fruit, no grain, 
Ungarnered sheaves, and an empty wain. 

Nothing but this for a heart athirst ; 
No lips to kiss — life's lees drink first. 

Nothing but leaves, and husks, and tares, 
O, the spirit grieves for its many cares ! 

Nothing but this. If you dreamed of more, 
That dream of bliss, O, my heart, is o'er ! 

Nothing but leaves for a starving soul ! 

Unbound are my sheaves,who shall make them whole .^ 

Nothing but this } O, soul ! but wait, 
If you do not miss heaven's golden gate, 



HEART ECHOES. 85 

Something not leaves, nor husks, nor tares, 
Fond hope believes will dispel your cares. 

Something too fair for pen to paint, 

Ah, then ! ah, there ! you will make no complaint. 



TOO LATE. 

The day is dead of a surety. 

When the careless touch of your hand 
Is more than another's touch would be ; 

You have lost — do you understand .^— 
The love of my heart ; aye, do not start ! 

You have thrown, like a toy, away 
Of your cup of bliss the better part, 

And bankrupt you are to-day. 

I have never a thought of love allied 

To my tenderest thoughts of you ; 
That day is past, for it was denied 

For another not half so true. 
Not half so true as my love for you, 

Ere you trampled it in the dust ; 
Not all the kindness you now can do 

Can awaken my buried trust. 

Let the dead past sleep ; it is dead for aye ; 

Its monumental stone 
The years have set as they passed us by. 

There is nothing that can atone 



• g5 HE A RT E CIJOE S. 

For the pain I felt, as that morn I knelt 
At your feet, and with you plead 

For the love that I coveted so, and you 
Told me that your love was dead. 



A NIGHT-WATCH. 

All night the fingers of the rain 
Have tapped against my window-pane ; 
All night the sobbing of the sea 
E'en in my dreams has haunted me ; 
So, flinging off the bonds of sleep. 
The lonesome watch I fain would keep. 

I think of faces I have missed, 
Of lips my own have often kissed, 
Now smileless, silent all the day, 
Beneath the grasses hid away ; 
And calling, calling unto me, 
I hear the sad voice of the sea. 

Its waters low but solemn boom, 

Make dreary echoes in the gloom ; 

And restless waves, with white arms tossed 

On high, and sheeted like a ghost. 

Seem beckoning to me, as I watch 

To see Day's white hand on the latch. 



HEART ECHOES. 

SUNSET-HOUR. 

Again 'tis sunset's solemn hour, 

The hour that always brings 
To me a feeling of unrest 

Upon its shining wings. 
The one great wish to look beyond 

The sunset's ambient door, 
And taste the bliss my dear ones have 

Whose feet have gone. before. 

It is the hour that always draws 

My soul so near to God ; 
I almost see the pave whereon 

Their shining feet have trod. 
The sunlight, like a joyous smile, 

Lies on the river's brim. 
Such as, methinks, lay on the waves 

Where they crossed o'er to Him. 

O soul of mine, cease this unrest ! 

Life yet is very sweet, 
For love doth make its every draught 

With happiness replete. 
Let the sweet boon of being loved 

The little while be mine, 
Life is so short — arid after it 

Etei'nity is thine. 



87 



88 HEART ECHOES. 



BESIDE THE FENDER. 

Sitting by the glowing fender, • 

Where the yule-log is ablaze, 
Memory sings to me a tender 

Heart-song of the vanished days ; 
Of the blissful dreams I cherished 

In the summers long agone. 
And the dear hopes that have perished 

While the years were drifting on. 

As the flickering fire-light flashes 

Widely through the door ajar, 
There are tears upon my lashes. 

For the dear ones who now are 
Sleeping in death's silent chambers, 

Where about the sculptured stone 
Tenderly the ivy clambers, 

Hiding the dear name thereon. 

O the dreary loss, the longing 

For the faces seen no more ! 
O the tender memories thronging 

Through the heart's wide open door, 
Till I hear sweet voices calling 

To me as the night grows late. 
In the wind's low footsteps falling 

Softly by the outer gate ! 



HEART ECHOES. 89 

Mine the sorrow to inherit, 

Theirs the glory and the peace ;. 

Mine the sad and haunted spirit, 
Theirs the joys that never cease. 

my loved ones, safely chambered 
'Neath the roof-tree fringed with flowers, 

Dearest, best-beloved, remembered 
Tenderly through all the hours ! 

Dear ones who, when sleep is blessing 

With oblivion my pain, 
Come, my aching brow caressing 

With the old-time touch again ; 

1 am nearing, surely nearing. 
The far-off reunion shore ; 

And this thought my heart is cheering-^ 
We shall part, ah, nevermore ! 



LOVE'S TRYST. 

While the stars of the night-time are peeping 

The dome of the blue ether through, 
Alone in their light I am keeping 

Love's vigil, my darling, for you ! 
A moment ago and I fancied 

I heard your dear step at the gate, 
And yet you are absent, my dearest, 

And yet, O, my love, you are late ! 



go HE A R T E CHOES. 

You wrote, " when the day has departed" 

I should see the love-light in your eyes ; 
" My darling," you said, "be glad-hearted ; 

When the stars are agleam in the skies, 
I shall drink from your lips honeyed sweetness, 

Till I'm drunken the while with my bliss ;" 
And still I am waiting, and watching; 

O where are the lips I would kiss ? 

The moon up the blue stairway climbing, 

Looks pityingly down on my V^ars ; 
The eight o'clock bell now is chiming — 

How dreary the silence appears ! 
Hist ! a step on the graveled walk ringing. 

See ! see a bright face in the door ! ' 
All the birds in my heart that were singing. 

This morning are singing once more. 



INTROSPECTIVE. 

If I to read the future could, 

It I were loth to do. 
As life is rightly understood, 
God chides us only for our good. 
My thoughts on sorrow shall not brood, 

Because I know it is the lot 

Of all to suffer loss. 
My heart has bled, and whose has not ? 
But better is a grief forgot 
Than joy, so I have always thought. 



HEART ECHOES. 

And yet so much of stern regret 

Is concentrated there, 
Because, more brave, I had not met 
The demon Wrong, whose feet were set, 
Are set within my pathway yet. 

I've tried to live my earth-life so 

God should proclaim it right ; 
But my life-record v/ill not show. 
In all these years I've lived below. 
As fair as I once planned, I know. 

Its written book I look within. 

And, like a grieved child, say, 
Alas, alas ! too prone to sin 
This heart of mine has ever been ! 
Would no such errors were within ! 

I fail so often, when I fain 

Would show the most of strength; 
I faint, I fall, and yet again 
I fall ; nor show a sign of pain, 
Because 'tis weakness to complain. 

I would be just to all mankind. 

Would give to each their due ; 
But still, through ignorance, I find 
I all too often have been blind 
In judgment on my fellow-kind. 



91 



92 



HEART ECHOES. 

I throw the curtain of Distrust 

Back to let in the light ; 
And have no two-edged sword to thrust 
Into a heart low in the dust ; 
And all because I would be just — 

Would do to others as I would 

That they should do to me ; 
And knowing well my own life should 
Be more productive still of good 
Among the world's great brotherhood. 

,No doubts have I about that land 

To which we go from this. 
That which I cannot understand 
I leave unto the future, and 
Reach up the while a trusting hand. 

Just what I am, not what I may 

Sometimes have only seemed ; 
At His dear feet my faults I lay, 
And with a contrite spirit say, 
" Lord, help me walk the better way !'* 



IN THE DAYS LANG SYNE. 

You said you loved me in the days lang syne, 
And I, believing with a woman's trust. 

Built royal castles of those dreams of mine, 

And called them finished, saying," Moth nor rust 



HEART ECHOES. 93 

Shall never eat their supple strength away, 
For Faith shall be their granite base alway." 

To-day my heart is heavy with its loss ; 

Not only lie my castles at my feet, 
But mine is still the heavy cross 

That makes my life so incomplete. 
Fame lured you up to walk her flowery path, 
I only met the tempest's awful wrath. 

One who has mastered song has sung, 

" Whom first we love, in truth we seldom wed.* 

What mattered the love-pearls my hand had flung 
To you, Fame's halo all about your head ? 

So far removed by genius from my sight, 

So bright your day, what knew you of my night? 

Although above my earthly way 

The star of hope for aye Has set, 
O my beloved, I can truly say, 

I did not blame, I do not blame you yet. 
Within her lock Fate turned her direful keyj 
How could you, O my darling, come to me 1 

With her dark barrier looming high 

Between our mortal vision's ken, 
How could we, dearest — you and I — 

In love's sweet pathway walk again ? 
Ours is, alas ! the old refrain. 
The joy has passed us by that " might have been I' 



94 



HEART ECHOES. 



IN THANKFULNESS. 

What have I done, most gracious Lord, 

That I deserve so much ? 
All day I feel upon my head 

Thy hand's so kindly touch. 
All day the sunlight glints my way : 

My sky most sunny be ; 
What have I done, deserving so 

Much favor, Lord, from Thee ? 

My heart is full of thankfulness, 

My soul is full of prayer. 
That I upon my flock do gaze 

Nor see one vacant chair. 
My jewels every one I keep 

In Home's bright coronet ; 
Dear Lord, I thank Thee that not one 

Is missing from it yet ! 

Though earth vanish from my sight, 

I have no voice to plead 
For further grace. In Thee I have 

A friend in every need. 
And I were recreant to the trust 

Thou hast vouchsafed to me, 
Did I not humbly in the dust 

Sing, Lord, this song to Thee. 



HEART ECHOES, 95 



HOSANNA TO THE KING! 

The golden pinions of the sun, 

Whose plume-tips swept the breast 
Of Mother Earth, are folded on 

The mountain's top in rest ; 
While solemnly, slowly above 

The stars this anthem sing : 
" Rejoice, rejoice, for God is love— ' 

Hosanna to the King !" 

The evening winds take up the strain, 

And wide o'er mount and sea, 
O'er valley low, and sodden plain — 

The Earth's immensity — 
Where Nature wears her wrap of green, 

And flowers their censers swing. 
They softly chant, with humble mien, 

" Hosanna to the King !" 

Hosanna to the King of day. 

Who, from His golden crown 
The fairest of the whole array 

Of jewels has cast down. 
O, when the song does stir the lute 

Of Nature's every string. 
Should mortal tongue alone be mute ? 

Hosanna to the King ! 



p6 HEAR T echoes: 



FREE 



Sleep, my beloved, sleep ! 

Life's fire is burned away ; 
I have no heart to weep 

That thou art dead to-day. 
Knowing that Pain no more 

Can scathe thee with its power ; 
I would not ope the door 

That Death has shut this hour. 

I say, " So let it be, 

I cannot wish thee back !" 
Life ever was to thee 

A rough and briery track. 
I have no tear to shed, 

I have no heart to weep, 
I can but say instead. 

Aye, sleep, my darling, sleep ! 

My blessed one, O sleep ! 

For thou art truly blest. 
Love's vigil thou didst keep, 

But now take, take thy rest. 
Life's feverish dream is spent, 

Its sorrow all is past ; 
I even am content, 

For thou art free at last ! 



HEART ECHOES 97 



AN AUTUMN DAY. 

Again the rare and royal blood 

Of Summer-time has been 
Wrung from her throbbing heart, and thrown 

Broadcast o'er hill and plain. 
The old woods echo to the sound 

Of wailing winds, and all 
The mountains fold about their breasts 

The mantle of the Fall. 

Beneath a calm, untroubled sky 

I walk with listless tread. 
And feast my eyes upon the scene 

Dame Nature's hand has spread. 
How faithfully her magic touch 

The beauty has portrayed ! 
How lavish in her gorgeous tints 

Of sunshine and of shade. 

The south winds wander where they will, 

And all the forest aisles. 
Where she is holding queenly court, 

Are wreathed with royal smiles. 
Gay banners, wrought in quaint device, 

Are flung out to the breeze, 
And golden crowns bedeck the brows 

Of all the maple trees. 
5 



98 



HEART ECHOES, 

Like visions of the Orient — 

Of sunlight on the sea — 
Aye, like a very dream of Heaven, 

This day has been to me. 
Methinks that even that blest land 

No fairer scene can give ; 
But this I know, Heaven seems so near, 

I am content to live. 



CROSSING OVER. 

Crossing o'er the darksome river, 

To the shore 
Where a sorrow cometh never, 
. Never more. 

Yet, O God, so much we love her, 

That we pray. 
As our tears fall fast above her, 

" Not to-day." 

Spare her till our hearts are stronger 

For the rod, 
Just a little, little longer, 

Blessed God! 

Has the earth-life power to charm her.? 

Nay and nay ; 
She would with the golden Summer 

Go away. 



HEART ECHOES. 

For her eyes have seen the vision, 

O, so fair ! 
Of the radiant fields Elysian, 

Over there. 

She has seen the fields more vernal 

Far than ours ; 
Seen, in dreams, the land Eternal, 

With its flowers. 

And the while our tears are falling 

In our woe, 
She is calling, ever calling, 
" Let me go !" 

Walking where Pain's hurtling briers 

Close are prest, 
Is rt strange her soul desires 

Perfect rest ? 

Death is but the kindly warden 

Who the gate 
Opens to the Golden Garden, 

Soon or late. 

E'en our tears condemn our blindness — 

Foolish tears ! 
She shall joy through Azrael's kindness, 

All the years ! 

Weep we on while she is going 

To her rest, 
Asking God to spare her, knowing 

He kfioivs best. 



99 



100 HEART ECHOES. 



NOVEMBER. 

November, with her filmy veil 

Of Indian-Summer haze, 
Her forehead star-gemmed, sad, and pale, 

And sombre robes ablaze 
With ambient sunshine, walks adown 

The vine-empurpled land, 
And scatters jewels from her crown 

With a most lavish hand. 

In gay battalions, back and forth 

The crimson-capped boughs sway, 
As Autumn in the storied North 

Holds carnival to-day. 
The winds all chant a solemn dirge 

As, with reluctant feet, 
Upon the Winter's very verge. 

From north and south they meet. 

The bright-eyed wrens a week ago 

Held a grand matinee ; 
Some frightened ones predicted snow — 

To-day, they're gone, I see. 
The speckled quail in flocks are seen 

Among the stubble dry; 
The rabbit, timid in its mien. 

With agile bounds goes by. 



HEART ECHOES. lOI 

And yet, among the frosted blooms 

That fringe the forest's robe, 
The cooing, brownrwinged partridge drums, 

To call her straying brood. 
While here and there I hear the sound 

Of falling nuts, as they 
Drop in the apron of the ground, 

This still November day. 

The ploughshare's wound is on Earth's breast, 

A wound that will not heal 
'Till Nature, in her green robes drest. 

Shall lay thereon her seal. 
But Winter's kindly hand shall put 

A snowy bandage on, 
'Till the good seed has taken root 

The farmer's hand has sown. 

O when some thoughtless deed shall mar 

Our life's most sacred soil, 
When heart-sick with unrest we are 

So weary of our toil, 
If one good seed we may have sown 

Shall spring to life and grow, 
And Purity shall cast thereon 

Her spotless robe of snow. 

No matter if we are not here 

To reap our harvest, friend ; 

Some heart, perchance, will hold us dear, 
Some heart a thought will send 



102 HEART ECHOES. 

Into the great Beyond, and say, 

" Dear soul, we reap and sow, 
But yet the good seed thrives to-day 
You planted years ago !" 

Then, then, indeed, our life here was 

Not profitless or vain ; 
Who sows good seed through Nature's laws 

Shall surely reap again. 
And so, perhaps, some little deed 

Of kindness we have done. 
At God's dear feet shall intercede 

For us through Christ His Son. 



JENNIE. 

The sunlight falls down in a wondrous smile. 

And glints all the fair valley o'er; 
The robins are winging their home^way and singing. 
But we heed not their cadence, we see not the 
radiance 

Of gold on the hill-side for the shadows before, 
We weep, for our Jennie, the fairest of any 
And all of the band of earth-angels, 

Has gone from our hearth evermore. 

There's a little low mound in the valley to-day, 

But we see not the sunlight thereon ; 
For the tears that are falling, the while we are calling, 
" Come, fair little blossom, come back to our bosom, 



HEART ECHOES. 



103 



Our darling, our birdling, our beautiful one !" 
Vain call, for our Jennie, the fairest of any 
And all of the band of earth-angels, 

To the land of the angels has gone. 

The earth was too rough for her delicate feet. 
Now they're sandal'd with sapphire and pearl. 
Which around her is shedding their light as she's 

treading 
The fair fields Elysian, too bright for our vision, 

And God will protect her, our own little girl — 
Our little lost Jennie, the fairest of any 
And all of the band of the angels 

Who walk with their sandals of pearl. 



SOMETIME. 

" Sometime," I say, and look away 
With eyes that shine with longing, 
To see the fair, fair country, where 
The angel-hosts are thronging. 
" Sometime," O me ! when will it be, 
That I that glorious home shall see ? 
When will I reach the golden strand 
And join my loved in Eden Land 1 

I faint, I fall, amid it all — • 
The turmoil and the trials ; 

My heart is sore unto its core 
For all its love-denials. 



104 



HEART ECHOES, 

Day after day, as far away 
That country seems for which I pray ; 
When will I reach the brighter shore, 
And join my loved for evermore? 



THE WOUNDED LINNET. 

Without, the chill November rain 

Was falling drearily; 
The wind against the window-pane 

Was tapping wearily. 
When, through the half-oped casement flew 

A little bird of sombre hue — 
A soft-eyed, trembling linnet. 

Canary in his cage asleep, 
Saw not the little eyes bo-peep 

So curiously within it. 

The little linnet's robe was brown. 

The worse for stormy weather ; 
Canary wore a golden crown 

And gold on every feather. 
The cage was silver-lined, to make 
It pleasant for the singer's sake ; 

But yet he pined and fretted, 
Just as a little robin would. 
Who, watching o'er its tiny brood, 

Was by the fowler netted. 



HEART ECHOES. 

His head tucked 'neath his shining wing, 

His caller was unheeded ; 
Until he heard the stranger sing, 

" Kind sir, your help is needed ; 
Here do I sit with wounded wing, 
Then haste restoratives to bring. 

For only just remember 
The winter-time draws near apace, 
And I would leave this dreary place 
While yet it is November." 

Canary heard with chirp of pride 

. The sweet voice of the linnet ; 
" My cage is cruel," then he cried, 

" Would that you were within it ! 
I'd dress your wounded wing, sweet friend, 
Your tattered plumage I would mend. 

And we would sing together ; 
What mattered if it stormed without, 
Our song of love should be about. 

Regardless of the weather." 

As canary this proposal made. 

The little brown-robed stranger 
Was almost tempted, I'm afraid. 

To be no more a ranger. 
But then she quickly sang in glee, 
" O give no gilded cage to me ! 

I could not live within it ; 
Nor could I sing, not e'en to you, 
Admitting that your love were true," 

Quoth little Mrs. Linnet. 

5* 



105 



Io6 HEART ECHOES. 

" So keep your gilded cage, I pray, 

'Tis very neat and pretty ; 
Your crown is nice, and, I will say, 

Your songs are gay and witty ; 
But there's a tiny little mate 
Who says, ' Dear love, we will migrate 

Ere fades the chill November ;' 
And first' love is to me the best. 
E'en though he wear no golden vest. 

His kindness I remember." 

From it a lesson we might con. 

This fable of the linnet ; 
This world is very fair, I own. 

But many dwell within it 
Who, when Adversity doth fling 
Dark clouds around, and shadows brin^ 

To faith and love together. 
Are lured with fetters made of gold 
Because the tempter dares be bold. 

And wears the gilded feather. 



GROWING OLD. 

Sitting where the flickering fire-light 
Casts its rays upon the floor, 

While the wind without is sighing, 
I have opened Memory's door. 



HEART ECHOES. 107 

And adown the aisles so voiceless 
Of the years whose beads are told, 

Walk I saying, sadly saying, 
" I am growing, growing old ! 

O the fair sun-tinted meadows ! 

O the faces I have seen 
Only in the fields of Dreamland, 

Since the flowers have bloomed between ! 
O the glory on me streaming 

As the dead years are unrolled ! 
Would that I, while gazing on them, 

Could forget I'm growing old ! 

In Youth's pastures fair and vernal. 

Walk I with dear, precious feet — 
Feet that now for years have wandered 

Through Beulah's golden street. 
Years and years, beneath the daisies, 

Over them the graves dank mold 
Has been creeping, while I, weeping. 

Have been growing, growing old ! 

On my brow are threads of silver. 

Which the fleeting years have spun ; 
Once, in days that now are vanished, 

I could count them one by one. 
But to-night they band my forehead 

Like a 'kerchief all unrolled ; 
And I know, ah ! know too truly, 

I am growing, growing old. 



1 08 HE A R T ECHOES. 

Growing old as life is reckoned 

Here on earth by mortal tongue ; 
In the joys of the Hereafter 

I shall be forever young. 
Time forgets to spin his silver 

In the Heavenly Shepherd's fold ; 
Then, I shall ne'er think to murmur, 

" I am growing, growing old." 



DYING. 

I AM going, O my loved ones, 

Out upon a journey far ! 
Chide me not, for I am going 

Where my best beloved are. 

O'er the river they are waiting 
On the bright and golden sands, 

And I see the snowy flutter 

Of their white, impatient hands. 

O, my heart is throbbing gladly. 
For the years have been so long. 

Since my ear drank in the music 
That their lips framed into song. 

Love, I know, would fain detain me. 
Hearts would bid me tarry here ; 

But it may not be, beloved, 
Though I hold you all so dear. 



HEART ECHOES. 109 

Clasp me close, O clasp me closely, 

Press your loving lips to mine, 
For the golden bowl is breaking — 

Spilling all Life's ruby wine. 

Ne'er again my feet shall wander 

By your dear side as of yore, 
Till they greet you as you journey 

To me on the brighter shore. 

Comes the summons o'er the water, 

Like a merry marriage-bell ; 
*Tis the voice of the pale boatman 

Calling to me. Fare you well. 



ALONE. y 

Not that I loved my darling less, . - 

That I to link my life to his was loth ; 
The hand of God was broad enough to bless 

The lives, I knew — though separate — of both. 
And Fate had so ordained it for our good, 

That life could never be just what we planned ; 
That it was best, too, well we understood, 

Though why, we did not, could not understand. 

And so I put the blissful cup away 

Whose sweet, sweet draught so long had tempted 
me, 
And tried, " Thy blessed' will, not mine !" to say, 

And to forget the joys that could not be. 



J I o HEAR T ECHOES. 

But all the years of life have proved 
The fallacy of what we fancied right ; 

Had I been wedded to the man I loved, 
I had not, dying, been alone to-night. 



THEY SAY. 

We are biased in our actions 

More by what the world will say, 

Than the law of creeds and factions, 
In this nineteenth century. 

But I've faith to think this blindness 
Will have passed us years from hence ; 

When we will be ruled by kindness 
And old-fashioned common-sense. 

Show me, if you can, a woman 
Who would walk the street to-day 

With a creature all too human. 
Quite unmindful of " They say." 

Once, a thief, in heart-felt sorrow. 

Prayed, " Lord, be my sins forgiven !" 

And that thief was on the morrow 
With the blessed Lamb in Heaven. 

He whose mercy saved that sinner, 

Points us to the Magdalen, 
Saying, try that ye may win her 

From the broad, broad road of sin. 



HE A RT E CHOES. \ \ \ 

Do we try ? O have we heeded 

That a dear soul is at stake ? 
Have we kindly interceded 

For her for the Master's sake ? 

Nay, I mind me now of many 

Who would draw their robes away 

As from out the fire, if any 

Such were passing on life's way. 

Women, too, whose lamps are burning (?) 

In the Church with steady light ; 
Never pausing, never turning. 

Saying, " Sister, do the right /" 

O, who would evince such daring. 
In the broad, broad light of day ? 

She the badge of shame is wearing, 
And what would the world say ? 

We have duties all around us 

In this life's unceasing fray, 
Let us care who may surround us, 

More for Right, than what " They say" 



NATURE'S POEM. 

A WONDERFUL, marvelous poem 

Of birds and the murmuring brook, 

The finger of Nature to-day 

Has penned in her beautiful book. 



112 HEART ECHOES. 

The breezes swept down from the mountain, 
And rustled the leaves into song ; 

And each hour was a verse, so the poem, 
As the exquisite day, was as long. 

O rare are the thought-scintillations 

The wondrous book doth enfold. 
Which is clasped with the sunshine of heaven. 

And bound in the sky's blue and gold. 
The cover is daintily studded 

With stars, which the night-time has brought 
From the courts of the worshiping angels, 

To embellish this volume of Thought. 

In rapture I read from its pages, 

Far out in the depths of the night, 
And think of the poem unwritten 

Which the pen of To-morrow will write. 
Then to sleep, and, in blissful awakening. 

To meet the glad kiss of the sun. 
And read from the beautiful pages 

The song which the day has begun. 



• HOUR OF THOUGHT. 

The sun's bright chariot rolls its way 
Adown Time's beaten track. 

And takes with it another day 
That never will come back. 



HE A RT E CHOES. 113 

Another day, another day, 
That never will come back, 

Never, never, never more 
To us will come back. 

In wondering awe the while we stand, 

And tearfully we sigh 
To see the growing shadows and 
The fair day pass us by. 

To see the bright and golden day 

So "swiftly pass us by, 

Forever by, forever by. 

So swiftly pass us by. 

With dusky robes Night climbs the stair 

To Heaven's ethereal arch ; 
The moon is shining calmly there. 
The stars are on their march — 
With stately step and slow, on high 

The stars are on the march 
That time allotted unto them, 
Their everlasting march. 

O well-loved hour of solemn thought, 

Blest hour of Aiden-bliss, 
What tender dreams our hearts have wrought 
By vision such as this ! 

What tender, tender fancies, 

What dreams of future bliss 
O'erflood the eager, waiting soul, 
By vision such as this ! 



1 1 4 HEAR T ECHOES. 



AS BY DEATH. 

I TOLD you I would be your friend, 
And none should be so true ; 

That Friendship's path should never end 
Where I would walk with you. 

Didst deem it but a hollow vow } 

O friend, I only know 
That as by death are parted now 

Our life- paths here below. 

Parted, and by a little word, 

(Would it had been unsaid). 

that instead one friend had heard 

The other one was dead. 

1 cannot tear your memory quite 

From out my heart, as though 
You did not have the sacred right 
Of friendship long ago. 

Well, life is fraught with griefs like this, 
(After the darkness light) ; 

In Heaven — the thought brings happiness- 
The wrong shall be made right. 

No less a loving hand I reach 

Than in the years agone ; 

Yet know the while on earth that each 
Must journey on alone. 



HEART ECHOES. 

But, if when life's short hour is o'er, 
Our paths again shall blend ; 

If, in the light of Faith once more 

We clasp hands, O, my friend, 

I will not murmur for the cross 
That presses me so sore ; 

There^ I shall sorrow for the loss 
Of your love never more. 

So, be that day far-off or near. 

In hopeful trust I wait 
To clasp your hand, and kiss you, dear, 

Beyond the Golden Gate. 



115 



THE LONG AGO. 

When thou'rt sitting sad and lonely 

In thy home beside the sea. 
Dost thou ever, though 'tis only 

For the moment, think of me ? 
When the evening shadows darken, 

And the yule-log is ablaze, 
Dost thou ever pause to hearken 

For the tones of other days ? 

Reading in each glowing ember 
Stories of the buried past. 

Dost thou, darling, then remember 
Joys which were too sweet to last ? 



I 1 6 HE A RT E CHOES. 

Give me answer, for I'm longing, 
Longing, dear one, so to know 

If through memory's hall is thronging 
Footsteps of the Long Ago. 



FORGIVE. 

I KNOW now it was love that stirred 

My being's pulses so, 
My darling, at the little word 

You whispered years ago. 
I know that I have missed the best 

Of life Life had to give, 
That in my heart a great unrest 

Will be the while I live. 

But were you happy, I content 

Could walk my shadowed way. 
Believe me, dear, I never meant 

To turn to night your day. 
" God grant the sun of joy for you 

Shall shine the while you live !" 
Such was my prayer, Beloved and true, 

Forgive me, O forgive ! 



HEAR T ECHOES. iij 



HIS WAYS NOT ALWAYS ARE AS OURS. 

I HOLD it sinful to despond 

When life's clouds hover low ; 
That he who does not look beyond., 

And see the golden bow 
Of Promise shining in the sky, 

Is blind unto God's laws. 
He who knows pain, should bravely try 

To find the real cause. 

For Fate is, as she stands intact, 

A most capricious elf; 
We shun her shadows, when in fact 

We are to blame ourself 
For half the sorrow that is thrown 

Around our earthly way. 
Ours, I repeat, and ours alone. 

The blame day after day. 

I hold it sinful, aye, 'tis more, 

For us to so rebel. 
When God's dear mercy hovers o'er, 

And knowing He doth well. 
For us to doubt His love. Though He 

Some grief gives us to bear — 
Because He chastens us, shall we 

Unjustly doubt His care. ^ 



1 1 8 HE A RT E CFIOES. 

His ways not always are as ours, 

And yet He doeth best. 
In pleasant paths and strewn with flowers, 

Were our feet always prest, 
We were like children gone astray. 

We need a ruling hand — 
He leads us by the better way, 

Unto the Better Land. 

And, knowing this, I do not doubt 

His all-prevailing care. 
His love doth fold me round about 

If I be here or there. 
I humbly cling unto the hand 

That leads me on, and say, 
I fain would reach that glorious Land, 

Thou knowest, Lord^ the way ! 



YESTERDAY. 

How fair the earth was yesterday ! 

How green the meadows were ! 
The poet. Nature, was her owu 

And best interpreter. 
A golden haze enwrapt the hills, 

A bright and ambient glow 
Like veil of mist dropped low, and kissed 

The valley just below. 



HEART ECHOES. 

The violets their blue-bells swung 

Upon the grassy lea, 
And starry daisies raised their eyes. 

Toward heaven, wonderingly. 
The meadows in their sheen arrayed 

Looked fair as any bride ; 
It did not seem one beauteous dream 

Of earth had been denied. 

To-day the sky is ashen-hued ; 

The wind sobs on the heath ; 
Dire shadows lie upon the hills, 

And on the vale beneath ; 
But, mirrored in the shining glass 

Of loving memory. 
The yester's sheen lies bright between 

The sombre mist and me. 



119 



IT IS NOT DEATH. 

The shuttle of the weaver, Death, 

To-night is. swiftly flying 
Through life's bright woof, and of a truth 

I know that I am dying. 
Day after day the shadow 'd way 

Grows clearer to my vision. 
And soon, ah, soon ! mine is the boon 

To tread the fields Elysian. 



1 20 HEAR r E CHOES. 

Much as this earth for me contains — 

And O, so well I love it ! — 
When harrassed 'round with cruel pains, 

Thought loves to soar above it 
In sweet communion there to dwell, 

Where sorrow cometh never, 
And where the sad, sad word " Farewell,*' 

Is heard no more forever. 

So do not chide me, dear ones, if 

I look with anxious longing, 
Above this life, at best so brief. 

To where God's hosts are thronging. 
I've wearied of the poet's wreath. 

The world's all-hollow praises ; 
It is not death to sleep beneath 

The violets and daisies. 



IN SUMMER. 

The brown thrush in the maple-tree 
Her sweetest song is singing, 

The while the sun, o'er mount and lea, 
His jeweled robe is flinging. 

The roses weave a perfumed hedge 
In which the south winds dally ; 

As by the river's fretted edge. 
They walk adown the valley. 



HEART ECHOES. 121 

Sweet is the air with violets' breath, 

And perfume of the clover, 
And over all the earth beneath 

The sky bends like a lover. 

Nature reflects God's blessed smile, 

'Tis mirrored on each feature ; 
The Love whose great breadth does the while 

Encompass every creature. 

I hear His step the winds adown, 

The mountains all adore Him ; 
He stills the waters with a frown, 

The tempests bow before Him. 

I hear His voice in every breeze. 

In every pasture vernal, 
In thankfulness my spirit sees 

The love of the Eternal. 

I see it in the sunlight's sheath. 

The violets' blue cover ; 
I see it in the earth beneath — 

The blue sky bending over. 

O, Earth is passing fair to those 

Who to Him thanks do render. 
The tiniest wild-flower as the rose. 

Enfolds itself in splendor. 

The thanks due to the One who made 

The earth and all that's in it. 
Whose hand its broad foundations laid, 

Whose kindness did begin it. 



122 HEART ECHOES. 

And singing thus our songs of praise, 
These hearts of ours will see the 

Rare smile of Peace through all the days, 
From Alpha to Omega. 



LIFE'S DISCIPLINE. 

I WAS so like a grieved, impatient child ; 

I shrank so from the chastening rod : 
And was, O so unreconciled. 

Because sometimes the path I trod 
Had more of thorns therein than flowers, 

I said we know best what we need 

And shrank from where His hand would lead, 
Because His ways are not as ours. 

A beauteous flower I fain would reach, 

But could not for the tide was high ; 
I dreamed sweet dreams, to see them each 

And every on^e swift pass me by. 
Life seemed at variance with Hope, 

And Love was, O, so far away ! 

My life I said had known no May, 
What thanks had / to offer up ? 

I saw a leaf upon a tree — 

A beauteous thing with raiment red ; 
But it, too, hung so far from me 

My heart would not be comforted. 



HEART ECHOES. 1 23 

I saw rare fruit the bough upon, 
So luscious with the Summer's kiss, 
But so far removed my hand would miss 

From sun to sun, from sun to sun. 

And so my days went on apace — 

Went swiftly on, and on, and on, 
And still there was upon my face 

The story of a joy unwon ; 
I wondered why I could not see 

As others did, not as a child ; 

Why. I could not be reconciled^ 
Though life few joys had given me ! . 

Ungrateful ! aye, I did not mean 

To be, but was, from sun to sun ; 
Not knowing that the discipline 

Of loss for me a good had done ; 
But now, to wiser stature grown, 

I drop the cold hand of Distrust 

To know His ways are always just, 
And better for us than our own. 

I pray the Christian's staff of strength 

In after years I shall not miss ; 
More sweet my joy, when I at length 

Shall journey to that land from this ; 
Because the grief that here opprest 

The stern temptations I have known, 

I shall not walk the way alone 
That leads to everlasting rest. 



124 



HEART ECHOES. 



FETTERS OF GOLD. 

A STATELY house with turrets grand, 
It stands upon the sloping hill : 

No nobler one in all the land : 

The tracery of a skillful hand 
Is all about the place ; but still 

There is a something incomplete, 

A void among the grandeur there : 
No child-voice with its accents sweet, 
No pattering sound of little feet, 

No white-robed forms at evening prayer. 

The walls are hung with pictures rare, 
The skill of many an artist's hand. 
From out the silken hangings there 
Soft incense floats upon the air, — 
Rich odors from a tropic land. 

The mistress is still fair and young, 
The master he is stern and old ; 

The same sad story told or sung : 

A true heart she aside had flung. 
And sold herself for paltry gold. 

For it she'd wrecked a loving heart, 

A dear head bowed with grief and shame ; 
But yet the old, old pain will smart. 
And tears of deep remorse will start 
At but the mention of his name. 



HEAR T ECHOES. j 2 5 

Aye, mistress of the mansion grand ! 

Oft does the vision come to you 
As in your silken robes you stand — 
Two youthful forms, hand clasping, hand, 

And vowing ever to be true ! 

O broken heart, with pain opprest ! 

The heir forever more of woe — 
O lips to which griefs cup is pressed, 
The draught that would have given rest 

Was thrown away long years ago ! 

* * * * * * 

A long procession passed to-day 

From out the mansion door. 
Just as a tired ship made its way 
Through the still waters of the bay 

To meet and kiss the sanded shore. 

A light foot touched the wave-washed beach ; 

I saw a brow with lines of care 
That back into the dead years reach. 
And side by side they were, but each 

Unconscious of the other there. 

Something about the silent throng 
Led him to join the mournful train ; 

Proud tassels from the rich bier hung, 

Plumes waved the drapery among. 
And thus they two did meet again. 



1 26 HEAR T ECHOES. 

Then came the solemn burial-prayer, 

The farewell to the silent dead 
Who slept with jewels in her hair, 
And dust to dust they laid her there 
Within her low and narrow bed. 

All turned away ; the stranger stood 

Of all the solemn throng apart ; 
Ah ! now, alas ! he understood 
How he had even dared intrude, 
Her name was graven on his heart. 

None knew the secret of that night 
That left its impress on the spot ; 
Some said 'twas dew that gleamed so bright, 
But O, I read the tale aright ! — 
His love had never been forgot. 

And she, thank God, has found her rest ! 

No more her white face looks on me, 
When day dies slowly in the west. 
All is at peace within her breast ; 

The chains are broke — the prisoner free. 



TELL ME! 

I CANNOT tell if it be love. 

This sense of perfect rest ; 

I only know the white-winged dove 
Of Peace sits in my breast : 



HEART ECHOES. 

Answered somehow seems every prayer 
My lips have ever framed ; 

Of erst oft wandering, Hope sits there 
Forever more reclaimed. 

I do not know what it could be 

That thrilled my pulses so, 
As in the gloaming last night we 

Walked slowly to and fro. 
The feeling was too sweet by far 

As yet to be expressed ; 
Life seemed perfected with you there, 

Your presence brought me rest. 

Such rest as I have never known 

In all my earthly years ; 
Your coming brings me joy alone. 

Your going brings me tears. 
If 'tis not love, then tell me, sweet, 

What casts this golden glow 
Upon my path when e'er we meet — 

Aye, tell me if you know ! 



127 



THE CITY OF PEACE. 

When the tears of this life are all over, dear friend, 

And its turmoil forever shall cease ; 
When up the bright stairway our feet shall ascend 

To the city v/hose name evermore shall be Peace. 



128 HEART ECHOES. 

Who will miss us, I wonder, from out the glad throng 
Of the minstrels who come, and the minstrels 
who go ? 

Who will miss us, and, missing, will long for the song 
We sang of an evening long Summers ago ? 

We know not ; we know only this at the best. 

We shall leave all our griefs in this valley of tears ; 

In the evergreen pastures of Life we shall rest, 
While the shuttle of Time throws the thread of 
the years. 

The grave, the dark grave, has no terrors for me, 
For Hope has embroidered the funeral pall ; 

The hands calmly folded, the sleep that we see, 
"The eyes closed to beauty, the ears deaf to call — 

I, never in thinking of those gone before, 

In my heart can bewail such mute symbols as these ; 

For they give to the sleeper the key to the door 
That leads to the city — the City of Peace. 



MARGARET. 

Many moons have waxed and waned. 

Many suns have set. 
Since beneath Italian skies 
Laid we Margaret. 



HEART ECHOES. 1 29 

Margaret, the Queen of Song, 

Pearl of rarest pearls, 
With the death-dew heavy on 

Her bright golden curls. 

I have missed her many years. 

And I miss her yet ; 
Miss the voice when others praise 

Of my Margaret; 
Miss the warm clasp of her hand, 

And her ringing laugh ; 
Ah, life has, since she is dead. 

Lost its sweetness half. 

Oft I faint beneath life's care, 

Weary of its fret, 
And I say, " Would thou wert here, 

Dearest Margaret !" 
But the threshold of the grave 

She but once has crossed. 
Hers but adds one name the more 

To my " loved and lost." 



AN AUTUMN REVERIE. 

Softly blow, softly blow. 
Winds of the morning ! 

Whisper low, whisper low, 
Gentlest of warning ! 



130 



HEART ECHOES. 

For over the mountain 

There comes from afar, 
A monarch whose shield 

Is as bright as a star. 
White is his raiment, 

And flashing with light 
Is the crown on his forehead 

With jewels bedight. 
The bowers where Autumn 

Her garlands have strown, 
Have furled their bright banners, 

The birds all have flown. 
The brook as it murmurs 

The valleys along, 
Has guessed its sad meaning — 

I know by its song. 

But a short week ago. 

From the old elm tree, 
The king of the robins 

Confided to me 
That the fleet winds had said, 

But the evening before. 
The reign of the beautiful 

Autumn was o'er. 
And then in a twinkling 

Was off on the wing, 
To the land of bright sunshine 

And eternal Spring. 
O winds of the nor'-land 

Your secret is told, 



HEART ECHOES. 

The wolf stands e'en now 
At the gate of the fold ! 

Yet, O, I entreat you 
To whisper it low ! 

For he cometh — King Winter — 
Whose robe is the snow. 



131 



SUNSHINE IN THE HEART. 
• 
Blessed is the man or woman 

Who in life's vicissitudes 
Never o'er a disappointment 

In a hopeless spirit broods ; 
All their days are days of gladness, 

Where joy's sacred flowers upstart. 
Blest for aye the man or woman 

Who keeps sunshine in the heart. 

Whose bright faces ever mirror 

Pictures from the inner shrine ; 
They, and they alone, do ever 

Drink hope's sacramental wine. 
Such can laugh when melancholy 

Flings at them her poisoned dart ; 
They can well defy bleak weather, 

Keeping sunshine in the heart. 

Such an one is to be envied 
Of a truth more than a king ; 



132 



HEAR 7' ECHOES. 

For into life's Winter weather 

They can take the charms of Spring. 

Life can never be a failure, 
Nor hope's garland fall apart, 

With them who, through all its changes, 
Carry sunshine in the heart. 



WHEN FROM EARTH I GO AWAY. 

t 

Do not weep for me, I pray, 
When from earth I go away. 
Only kiss me on my brow, 
Saying " She is happy now," 
Only kiss me, saying low, 
" It is, dearest, better so." 

Though to your impassioned cry 
I shall make no love-reply ; 
Though no word of greeting slips 
From my white and smileless lips 
Looking on your voiceless dead, 
Let your heart be comforted. 

Never more to weep again. 
Ne'er to feel the touch of pain, 
I shall never, night or day. 
Be from you so far away 
But I can with angel-speech 
Down the silence to you reach. 



HEART ECHOES. 

Then no tear above me shed 
When they whisper, " She is dead !'! 
Kiss me on my chilling brow, 
Saying " She is happy now." 
Only kiss me, saying low, 
" It is, dearest, better so." 



133 



FLOWER INCENSE. 

Old Mother Earth, with arms brim full 

Of dainty violets, 
That we so love the beautiful 

And pure never forgets. 
She makes the tangled braes to glow, 

The prairied reach to shine, 
Where flowers have made swift haste to throw 

Their gems on Nature's shrine. 

And thou, O wind ! O Summer wind ! 

The green braes sweeping o'er ; 
Sweep every grief from out my mind — 

Sweep every joy before, 
While, 'mong the scent of fern and rose, 

From upland and from lea. 
The hand of Nature kindly throws 

Flower incense unto me. 



134 



HEART ECHOES. 



MY DEAD. 

Under the starry daisies, 

Under the violets' sheen, 
Are many and many faces 

That I in my life have seen. 
Under the blossoming clover 

That maketh the fields so red, 
Under the grasses cover 

Slumber my dreamless dead. 

From earth and earthly places 

Gone evermore away, 
Are, O, so many faces 

Dear to my heart alvvay ! 
But up in the Heavenly meadows, 

Up in that land of bliss, 
They take no note of the shadows 

That hide them away in this ! 

Under the starry daisies, 

Under the violets' sheen. 
Touching their many faces 

A wondrous hand has been. 
And the streets of the city golden 

Are made like the sun to shine. 
With the faces of those olden 

And earth-lost friends of mine. 



HEART ECHOES. 

THE EARL'S SECRET. 
They wandered down the corridor 



135 



The Earl and his young bride ; 
She, gentle as a timid fawn, 

He, mighty in his pride. 
But though her sire was, too, an Earl, 

It did not seem betide 
That she should ever mate the stern, 

Dark warrior by her side. 

A week before and he had brought 

Her to his lordly hall. 
To be the sharer of his wealth — 

His bride, his love, his all. 
But something in that silent room 

Swept o'er them like a pall, 
Though nothing but a picture hung 

Upon the cobwebbed wall. 

Like a frail reed swept by a storm 

Trembled his stalwart frame. 
As with a cry upon his lip 

He uttered but a name : 
A name an angel might have spoke. 

Nor deemed it linked with shame ; 
Then to his bride, " It is so like, — 

But cannot be the same, — 

" The face I met across the sea ; 
It has her wondrous eyes ; 



136 



HEART ECHOES. 

I do not wonder that you stand 

Bewildered for surprise ; 
And see the lips, the coral mines 

Have lent their brightest dyes, 
Though the sweet face is partly hid 

Beneath the dust's disguise ! 

" But you are weary standing here, 

And tremble with affright ; 
Or would you hear the story, dear, 

Amid the gathering night ? 
E'en when the splendor of these eyes 

Are fading from our sight, 
As did her eyes across the sea 

Fade under sorrows' blight. . 

" Well, list, my bird, and I will tell 

The tale from shame not free, 
E'en with these memory-haunting eyes 

Looking so sad on me. 
It is enough that once we met 

Beside the sobbing sea, 
And though my feet stole there alone, 

Something returned with me. 

** Something, whose purity had shamed 

The lily of the glen ; 
But though my hand had won the prize, 

I was despised of men. 
And she, O darling ! 'neath the stars 



HEART ECHOES. 1 37 

We often met again, 
But never from her dusky eyes 
Went out the look of pain. 

" I could not claim her as my bride, 

She was of lowly birth, 
Though fitting in her beauty rare 

For any king on earth. 
And I had stolen from her life 

All that made life of worth ; 
Had made for her in all her years 

A pilgrimage of dearth. 

" I prayed unto my haughty sire 

To let me save her life 
From all the shame, by giving her 

The hallowed name of wife ; 
But on my sorrow-stricken head 

Fell words with anger rife ; 
So, to redeem his proud old name, 

I forfeited her life. 

" There came a time when these old halls 

Missed their proud master's tread ; 
When in the old ancestral vaults 

My sire slept with the dead. 
Where sorrow's frosts should nevermore 

Fall round about his head. 
Then, like a bird whose wing is freed, 

Across the sea I sped. 



138 HEART ECHOES. 

" 'Twas night when to her door I came, 

But silence lay around 
So deep, that e'en the whispering wind 

Seemed like a dirge profound, 
As, like a memory-haunted soul, 

It walked the cottage round. 
As though it fain would tell her that 

Her. happiness was found. 

" But. in the moonlight, strangely near, 
I saw a new-made grave, 
And conscience whispered to my heart, 

' You are too late to save.' 
Go list her dirge where once she sung 

Beside the echoing wave, 
Or o'er your dark, impassioned heart 
Let the deep waters lave- 

" How for my fears I reached the mound 

I scarcely need to tell, 
The wind had told the o'er-true tale. 

Well might it wail a knell. 
For on the tablet gleaming there 

This only—' Isabel '— 
Told me that with the bride I sought 

All was forever well. 

" Ten years I trod through desert-lands, 
But ever by my side 
There shone the sad, reproachful eyes. 
Of the fair girl who died — 



HEART ECHOES. 139 

Who should have queened it here to-day, 

In all her regal pride. 
Her memory was dearer far 

Than all the world beside, 

" Till, like a gentle white-winged dove, 

You flitted 'cross my way ; 
Then first amid the drearsome night 

I saw the gleam of day, 
And said, ' I fain would wear this bird 

Next to my heart alway. 
Upon its sobbing, trembling chords, 

Some sweeter notes to play.' 

" Yet I have sinned in choosing thus ; 

Dear love, you should have wed 
One. who wears honor's spotless crown 

Upon a royal head, 
For with this tale of deep remorse 

Your heart had never bled. 
If I had been as true as she 

Who sleeps among the dead." 

The darkness setded all around, , 

Hiding the face so fair. 
E'en hid the two who side by side 

Knelt in the silence there. 
And from the sweet lips of the bride 

Went forth the earnest prayer 
That what was e'er his weal or woe. 

She might forever share. 



140 



HEART ECHOES. 

Then forth they passed from out the room, 

She trusting as of old, 
Loving, forgetful of the tale 

His truthful lips had told. 
But something shone upon her brow, 

Amid the locks of gold, 
A seal that told most worthy she 

Was of her Saviour's fold. 

What gem can shine as does the one 

Forgiveness does impart ? 
I know the bitterness of pain 

Went from her husband's heart ; . 
Her kiss had healed for aye the wound 

Where lurked remorse's dart — 
O Charity ! meek child of Faith, 

Love's own dear proof thou art ! 



IN THE DUSK. 

Comes the shadows one by one, 
Telling us the day is done ; 
Homeward wends the lowing kine, 
Dewy hangs the drooping vine ; 
O'er the myrtle and the rose 
Broods the spirit of repose ; 
Where Day's raiment fluttered past. 
See, the stars have come at last ! 



HEART ECHOES. 

Luna, in hor regal state, 
Riding through the eastern gate 
Flings her reins out on the breeze, 
And they tangle 'mong the trees, 
Till a golden net seems spread 
Through the larches overhead ; 
Sit with me, O friend of mine. 
While she spills her ambient wine. 

Sit beside mine lattice, sweet. 
While the winds a song repeat. 
For your eyes quite shame the stars 
Gleaming twixt the azure bars ; 
Look whichever way you will. 
But I promise you until 
Your dear form is hid from view, 
When I wist I shall look too. 

I shall never see the sky 
With your fair, sweet face so nigh. 
Nor a star, however bright, 
Till your eyes are lost to sight. 
Sitting thus, where Day and Eve 
Over us their banners weave ; 
Friends, I drink the sweetest wine 
E'er vouchsafed these lips of mine. 



141 



142 



HEART ECHOES. 



WHITE BLOSSOM OF REST. 



Open thine arms, O Earth, my Mother, 

Take me, O take me close, close to thy breast, 

I am tired of this world, and I long for the other, 

I, O my mother, am only another, 

Longing to wear the white blossom of Rest. 

O, but to slip from the shadows around me. 

Out where the feet of the angels have press'd, 
Galling the fetters, O me, that have bound me, 
And never a day has yet come but has found me 
Longing to wear the white blossom of Rest. 

Like a child for lost treasures my heart has been 
grieving. 
So long in the brambles my tired feet have press'd, — 
Let me go, what is earth that I sorrow in leaving } 
Let me go, O the joy that I find in believing 

You will place on my brow the white blossom of 
Rest. 



RAIN OF SUMMER. 

Hark, I hear the tapping, tapping 

On the pane, 
Of the white, bejeweled fingers 

Of the rain. 



HEART ECHOES. 

And I hear the welcome footsteps 

At the door, 
Of the blessed rain of Summer, 

Come once more.. 

She, through weeks of anxious waiting 

Kept aloof, 
O it seems like angels walking 

On the roof. 

Mother Earth ne'er seemed so happy 

As to-night ; 
And the brooklets loud are singing 

For delight. 

Every flower a hymn is chanting 

Of content, 
For the blessed rain of Summer 

God has sent. 



143 



A PICTURE FROM MEMORY. 

It all comes back to me to-day, 

The memory of that afternoon. 
When, sailing up the Chemount Bay, 

We watched the carpeting that June 
Had spread upon the prairied reach. 
Sometimes our lips were framed in speech ; 

But oftenest we nothing said, 
For never from Great Nature's book 

Had we a sweeter poem read. 



144 



HEART KCIIORS. 

And as our hearts were busy thus 
In reading from her precious lore, 

High in the blue afloat o'er us, " 

Receding from the hills' green shore. 

White cloud-ships with their canvas flung 
Out to the breeze sped on their way, 
Some in bright moorings calmly lay, 

And some a tiny star had hung 

Just like a watch-light at their prow. 
For, lo ! the sun had slipped away. 

And Night her robes was trailing low 
Upon the green reach and the Bay. 

As one who to sweet music lists 

From the great world I turn aside, — 
As though it never yet had died. 

The memory of that day exists. 



THE FOOTSTEPS OF THE RAIN. 

They fall upon my roof to-night, 

And sadden me again, 
In sandals soled with rays of light — 

The soft feet of the rain. 
The solemn, sad-voiced winds the while, 

Like a lone mourner grieves, 
As Autumn's withered leaves they pile 

High up beneath the eaves. 



HEART ECHOES. 145 

O sweet remembrances of them 

Who sleep beneath the sod ! 
Whose raiments' tear-bespangled hem 

Trails o'er the path they trod, 
Bring me from out the realms of space 

A solace for this pain ; 
Step quicker yet, go on apace, 

soft feet of the rain ! 

Ye 'mind me so of other feet 

Who come to me no more ; 
Of swift-winged joys, so fair and sweet, 

Gone by forevermore. 
And over all the years now dead, 

Thought spreads her wings again, 
As on the roof-tree overhead 

1 hear the Autumn rain. 



FAITH IN YOU.. 

The world has been to you, love. 

Most selfish and unkind ; 
Friends many have been untrue, love, 

But, dearest, never mind. 
Still in the path of Right, love. 

Your onward course pursue ; 
'Tis morning after night, love, — 

I still have faith in you. 



146 HEART ECHOES. 

Not wealth or fame you've won, love, 

(You're happier thus, you'll find.) 
Your work has been well done, love, 

So, dearest, never mind. 
And if you've done your best, love, 

You've surely naught to rue ; 
In sweet content then rest, love, 

I slill have faith in you. 

Do not rebel at fate, love. 

Her clouds are silver-lined, 
The sun will shine, though late, love, 

Then, dearest, never mind. 
This heart will trust you still, love, 

Whatever others do ; 
This heart forever will, love, 

Have boundless faith in you. 



FIRELIGHT FANCIES. 

I AM thinking to-night, I am thinking. 

As I sit in the firelight's glow. 
Of faces that shone round the old home-hearth 

In the firelight of Long Ago. 

What fancies we wove of the bright To-Come, 
As we peered through the dreamy haze 

That enshrouded the future from us. 
In the far-off mystical days. 



HEART ECHOES. j^y 

O the beauteous hopes that lured us then, 
Which never have been fulfilled ! 

the precious wine the hand of the Years 

From the cup of our joy has spilled ! 

What pictures we wrought that Winter night, 

As we sat in the firelight's glow ; 
Pictures now faded and washed by tears. 

In the frame of the Long Ago ! 

1 am thinking to-night, I am thinking 

Of that gladsome, young, radiant band, 
But I miss the kiss of the honeyed lip, 
And the touch of the kindly hand. 

They have gone from my sight like the white- 
snow wreath 

The Winter spread over the earth, 
We will meet no more in the olden home 

With the firelight agio' on the hearth. 

Some are sleeping 'neath sweet-scented thyme, 
Some under the daisies and clover, 

With the sod of the valley pressed over the hearts 
Whose hopes and whose dreams now are over. 

The Past ! O the mystical lines it weaves 
In the web of sunshine and gloom, 

Till I almost fancy I see again 

The faces that sleep in the tomb ! 



148 HEART ECHOES. 

Mine own have looked into love-lit eyes, 
Dear faces have gladdened my sight, 

As I have sat by my silent, hearth 
Alone in the weird firelight. 



OUR ONLY ONE. 

Our darling's feet grew weary in the gloaming, 

Too tired he was to lisp the words, " Our Father;' 
The red, red roses only yester blooming 

Upon his cheeks, had dropped away together. 
His gentle brow, so waxen and so saintly, 

A band of pain was knotted fast around. 
And out his parted lips, but O so faintly. 

The breath came with a most foreboding sound ! 

His pansy eyes were full of direful pl^ding, 

As, reaching up to us one little hand, 
His lips for ease of pain were interceding. 

Ah ! 'twas an easy thing for us to understand 
That Death was walking close beside us. 

Weaving his crown of amaranthine flowers, 
And thrice before — aye, thrice — he had denied us 

Dear baby hands to hold the while in ours. 

Three times before had little dainty fingers 
Like snow-flakes slipped from ours away ; 

One little bird is all, alas ! that lingers 
Within the bower of Home to-day. 



HEART ECHOES. 



149 



One little bird, " O spare !" our white lips fashion, 
If he must go, another time, I pray, instead ! 

Upon his anguish God has had compassion, 

Our little bird — O God ! our only one — is dead ! 



TO BE WITH THEE. 

I've wearied of the world's vain praise, 

I've wearied of its smiles ; 
A song of other, brighter days. 

No longer me beguiles. 
The festive hall is all alight, 

Gay voices call to me, 
But O, I'm longing more to-night 

To be with thee, with thee ! 

My heart is sick and comfortless, 

Yet I must wear a smile. 
Because the throng must never guess 

I sorrow so the while. 
I teach my lips to wreathe in song 

Rare flowers of melody. 
And all the while, beloved, I long 

So much for thee, for thee ! 

They whisper that my dusky eyes 

• Were never half so bright ; 
That a whole world of gladness lies 
Within their depths to-night. 



ISO 



II R ART IXIIORS. 



But, ah ! beneath my borrowed mask 
They are too blind to see, 

That in my heart I only ask 

To be with thee, with thee ! 



MARION. 

From God's hand one bud so sweet 
Dropped from Heaven to my feet 
In the Summers long ago. 
In its petals white as snow. 
As it lay upon my bosom 
There was promise of a blossom 
That should be most fair to see, 
(So to-day she seems to me.) 
Suns of sixteen years have shed 
Golden halo on her head ; 
Perfected her form in grace ; 
Added beauty to her face ; 
All my mother-heart can do 
Can not half portray to you 
How she looks, her dainty feet 
Standing 'mong the blossoms sweet 
Of her sixteenth Summer, and 
Looking forward to the land 
Of the Future. Land unseen 
For the shadows yet between. 



HEART ECHOES. 

Lips in maiden sweetness chaste, 
Bronze hair reaching to her waist, 
Eyes whose tint a reflex seem : 
In whose depths there lurks the dream 
Of the years of life to come. 
Dainty rosebud half in bloom : — 
Where is maiden fairer than 
She, my queenly Marion ? 

Nearing fast the mystic gate 
Girlhood reaches soon or late, 
Sometimes v/ill a vague unrest 
Rise and haunt the while my breast, 
Fears that in the future she 
Direful griefs and cares may see. 

Mother-love not always may 
Pluck the thorns from out her way ; 
Womanhood has cares and tears, 
Hopeless dreams, and hopeless years. 
Tender feet across its track 
Ne'er as yet have journeyed back. 
But my prayer is, night and day, 
May she walk the sunniest way 
Life to mortal here can give. 
Teach her. Father, so to live 
That when earthly life is o'er 
She shall be a child once more. 



151 



1 5 2 HE A R T E CIIOES. 

THE PRESENCE OE GOD. 

O Summer winds, whose restless feet 

Now wander to and fro ! 
O stars, whose radiant gems complete 

The crown on Nature's brow ! 
O bright-eyed moon, whose golden lyre 

Swings in the vault of Night, 
And like a hooded friar walks 

The star-begirted height. 

forest deep and ocean wide, 
O mountain high and grand ! 

On all of ye has Nature stamped 
The impress of God's hand. 

1 hear His voice amid the rain 
That falls upon my roof; 

I see His eye amid the flowers 

That weave earth's carpet's woof; 
I feel His presence in my soul, 

His hand upon my heart, 
And know "that this so humble life 

Is of His love a part. 
A tithe e'en of the wondrous skill 

His handiwork displays, 
And with all Nature will I lift 

My voice to hymn His praise. 



HEART ECHOES. 



LET IT PASS. 

When the hand of sly Intrigue 
Seems with hidden foes at league,. 
And the tongue of Slander says 
Every thing but in your praise, 
If your conscience only be 
Wed to truth and purity, 
Nev^er mind the " what they say," 
'Tis by far the better way. 
Better be on the alert. 
Lest you should with short retort 
Add more fuel to the flame. 
As you value your good name. 
Though the world to stab you has 
Tried the while, just let it pass. 
Friend, I pray you, let it pass. 

It is always mean and low 
To strike back a coward blow. 
Truth is truth, or here or there. 
Right is right, and everywhere — 
Just the same that wrong is wrong. 
In life's pathway strewn along 
Thorns are often found to vex ; 
Cares and troubles will perplex. 
Weeds of sorrow without number 
Will life's precious soil encumber, 
If you lend an ear to all 
We by Slander's name mav call. 



153 



154 



HEART ECHOES. 

Do the best that you can do^ 
To your conscience pi'oving true^ 
And the victor's part you will 
Of a verity fulfill. 



SLEEPING. 

Do you wonder I am weeping 

All the live-long day ? 
Down beneath the grasses sleeping, 

Is my Aggie Ray. 
Sleeping with her brow so chilly, 

O so chilly, and 
Holding but a withered lily 

In her snowy hand ! 

O'er her blue eyes sweep the lashes, 

Shutting in their light, 
While the ruby jewel flashes 

On her finger white. 
Friend, few months agone I won her. 

Won her mine to be, 
With her bridal raiment on her 

Parted now are we. 

Never does she hear me calling, 

" Aggie, Aggie Ray !" 
While for her my tears are falling, 

Drip, drop, all llic day. 



HE A RT E CM OE S. 

They have made her bridal chamber 

All too low, alas ! 
O too well do 1 remember 

Only she could pass 



Through the door on emerald hinges 

Which 'tween us has swung, 
Where the flowers' sweet-scented fringes 

All about have hung. 
Fair the coverlet above her 

Which the Spring has spread ; 
O the violets' all love her 

None the less now dead ! 

Death not long can part such lovers, 

This my comfort be ; 
Sometime and the roof that covers 

Her shall cover me. 
When this misty veil of weeping 

Shall have dropped away, 
Side by side we shall be sleeping, 

I, and Aggie Ray ! 

Side by, side our feet shall wander 

In that land of bliss — 
In that country over yonder. 

Past the verge of this. 
To her flower-strewn bridal chamber 

Death will ope the door. 
And I smile when I remember 

We shall part no more. 



155 



I 5 6 HE A R T K CIIOES. 



MY DARLING. 

Bluer than these pansy blossoms are my darling's 

starry eyes, 
And he loves me, O he loves me, nothing can the 

truth disguise ! 
Tho' he never yet has fashioned love's sweet rhythm 

into words, ' 
Yet his voice to me is sweeter than the song of 

Summer birds. 



Through the chrism of the twilight drifts the echo 

of a tune, 
Clearer than the happy carol of a singing-bird in 

June. 
Words his lips have kept unuttered, lettered in his 

love-lit eye. 
Seal him mine, and mine forever, while the years of 

life go by ! 

In Thought's holy citadel, where his sweetest memo- 
ries throng. 

If he thmks of me with worship, O my heart, will it 
be wrong ? ■ 

If he loves me, dare I chide him, saying to him, 
" Nay, and nay? 

It is better to forget me, put the thoughts of me 



away 



HEAR T ECHOES. j q j 

Love, O love, I cannot ask it, words like these I 

cannot speak ! 
I would faithful be to duty, but my heart, alas ! is 

weak ! 
And I never see a pansy with its tender eyes of blue, 
But my darling, O my darling, all my heart goes out^ 

to you ! 

Floats the scent of fragrant roses softly through the 

Summer air, 
'Minding me of ones he gathered in the twilight for 

my hair. 
And my tears are falling, falling with a sorrowful 

refrain, 
For the rose of hope is withered^ and can never 

bloom again. 

Dearest, O my best beloved, let me call you so 

to-day ! 
Call you so, although you never hear the blessed 

words I say. 
Heart to heart has fondly answered, on love's tablet 

pure and white. 
Still again " My own, mine only," with a loving hand 

I write. 



NOVEMBER SONG. 

If you try you'll surely win it, 
Fly, O fly, then, little linnet ! 



158 



HEAR T ECHOES. 

Plume your wing, too, dainty swallow, 
Where the Spring is, follow, follow ! 

Bird with breast like gold aglitter, 
Leave your nest, the winds are bitter ! 

Sweet-heart thrush, I pray you hearken, 
Hush, O hush, the shadows darken ! 

Do not wait a day that's coming, 
It is late for bird and blooming. 

Comes a day of dreary weather. 
Fly away, sweet birds, together. 



THE DYING YEAR. 

There is silence on the air, 

And nothing but the Winter wind 

Singing its dirge of dire despair 

For him who, mute, and dumb, and blind, 

Steps with his locks with sorrow gray 

Into Oblivion's stream to-day. 

No kindly hand is stretched to save 
Or shield him from the dark abyss, 

In that still land where lies his grave, 
When he has done for aye with this, 

This dear old year, so kind and true. 

Would he could live his life anew. 



HEAR T ECHOES. j ^ q 

I've found him very kind to me, 

And loth am I to have him go ; 
He taught my lips new songs of glee, 

And I shall miss him much I know — 
Shall miss him as the years go by. 
And grieve, and grieve, that he should die. 

I hear sweet voices weaving songs 

To while away his dying hours, 
But not so mine, my spirit longs 

To keep this dear old year of ours. 
But naught, not e'en my love, can stay 
His footsteps on his homeward way. 

I sit and weep in dark despair, 

Unheeding all the gladsome throng 

Waiting to greet the New Year, where 
He enters in with smile and song. 

I only see a yawning grave, 

And hear the roar of Lethe's wave. 

I sit amid the festive throng 

Where merry voices thrill 
A welcome in a joyful song 

To him who comes his place to fill ; 
But on my lip the song is mute, 
My heart is but a broken lute. 

take me from the lighted hall, 
It mocks my sorrow so ; 

1 would no festal light should fall 
Where walks the old year faint and slow. 



i5d . HEART ECHOES. 

Alone, where solemn winds walk by, 
My voice shall sob its last good-by. 



Perhaps my heart will grow more light, 
Beneath the New Year's joyful spell ; 

But ask me not for song to-night. 
Save the one dirge, a sad farewell. 

They say he calmly fell asleep ; 

More calm than I — I can but weep ! 



THE TWO ANGELS. 

When Night donned her mantle embroidered with 
stars, 

Two angels, astray from the fold, 
Came down through the beautiful chrysolite bars 

That lead from the City of Gold. 

Each wore on his brow a garland of bay, 
And the eyes of the journeyers twain 

Were brighter than ever a midsummer day, 
And soft as the sheen of the rain.. 

Each, too, in his hand bore a harp fitly strung 

To evoke all the spirits of praise. 
And this was the song which the two angels sung 

As they went on their separate ways : 



HEART ECnCES. l6l 

" Hosanna and praise to the Lamb evermore, 
Who dwells m the pastures of bliss — 

Who walks 'mong the lilies that border the shore 
Just over the river from this. 

*' Believe, O believe, ye sojourners, of earth, 

In the beautiful truth Jesus told — 
Which He spake ere He passed to His heavenly- 
birth. 

Through the lips of the prophets of old !" 

And the winds and the stars re-echoed the song, 
All the earth sang a paean of praise, 

As the angels a glorious mission upon 
Went forth on their separate ways. 



BLIND. 

Of love my lips but y ester said, 
Aye, of a truth it now is dead ! 
Put it from out my sight away — 
Let it be buried with the day ! 

But O this morn my heart is strong 
To sing a gladder, sweeter song ; 
This morn I say, with spell-bound breath, 
For love like ours there is no death. 



1 62 ^^-^'^ RT E CIIOE S. 

Now, having put the veil aside 
Of Arrogance, Distrust, and Pride, 
Its fair brow bared before my gaze, 
I see the love of Other Days. 

The love that would not be gainsaid- 
The love that we had fancied dead. 
O we have been so blind, I say, 
We ne'er loved as we do to-day ! 



OVER THE RIVER. 

I WALK on the banks of life's mystical stream, 
On the banks where the tall aspens shiver ; 

And being earth-weary, I dream a sweet dream 
Of the country just over the river. 

O that country so fair ! O the loved I have there, 
Safe, safe in Christ's keeping forever ! 

the soul's perfect bliss when we journey from this 

To the country just over the river. 

1 walk in the paths that they traversed of yore, 

But they gladden my vision now never. 
On the silent-oared ferry my loved have passed o'er. 

To the country just over the river ; 
And I'm longing to go where the Peace-Lilies blow, 

Give me rest, O thou kindly Peace-Giver, 
From this sad land of woe, O my soul, let us go 

To the country just over the river ! 



HEART ECHOES. 



REACHING OUT A HELPING HAND. 

When we see one who has fallen, 

Striving bravely to regain 
Something of our lost esteem, 

Trying hard to wash the stain 
Of disgrace from out their garment 

What more noble thing or grand 
Can we do than to them kindly 

Reach an ever-helping hand. 

Ah, the dear God only knoweth 

How so hard they may have tried, 
But so many, O so many. 

Pass upon the other side ! 
Cheering words are easy spoken — 

Ever ours are at command ; 
Many have been saved for Heaven 

By a kindly, helping hand. 

In a most auspicious moment 
(Else there were no tale to tell), 

In a moment, when unguarded. 
They were tempted, and they fell. 

O the fallen ! they are many ! 

_ Scattered over the whole land 

Are the ones whom we might succor 
With a kindly, helping hand. 



163 



1 64 ^^^^ ^^ T E CIIOE S. 

Let us help them, sisters, brothers. 

Ere the even-tide is nigh ; 
Let us bravely do to others 

As we fain would be done by. 
'Tis a broad, broad field of labor ; 

Nobler none, or none more grand ; 
Even as we hope for mercy, 

Let us give a helping hand. 



A WINTER EVENING PICTURE. 

Upon the Earth's white-shrouded breast 
The silent feet of Night are prest, 

And many a wondrous gem 
Flashes its rare scintillant light 
Upon our half-bewildered sight, 

From out her garment's hem. 

The Moon, drawn in her shining car, 
Her 'kerchief fastened with a star 

And edged with golden lace, 
Half seems in her imperial track 
To pause the moment, looking back 

With kindly smiling face. 

Cloud ships drift slowly 'cross the blue, 
The signal-lights oft shining through, 



HEART ECHOES. 165 

The lamps the angels light. 
O fair the picture that I see 
Hung in the blue dome over me, 

This beauteous Winter night ! 



THE BROWN OWL. 

The brown owl sings, " Too whoo, too whit !" 
" Too whit, too whoo !" the brown owl sings, 

As peering the deep darkness through, 
So lazily he flaps his wings, 

" Too whit, too whoo !" he loudly sings 

The while he flaps his mottled wings. 

Why does he ever question this ? 

Is there no one to answer him ? 
What joy, I wonder, does he miss. 

That all night long upon the limb 
Of some old tree he sings, " Too whoo !'* 
The while he peers the darkness through ? 

" Too whit, too whoo !" I'd answer you, 

Old owl, if I your meaning guessed ; 
You should not make so much ado, 

If I could put your heart to rest- 
Would I could answer your " Too whoo," 
O'er which you make so much ado ! 



1 66 HEART ECHOES. 



THE RIVER OF YOUTH. 

Afar up the river whose tide bore nie here, 

The beautiful river of Youth, 
The borders 4vere fair and the waters were clear, 
And never an echo did fall on my ear, 

But the voices of Love and of Truth. 



There are islets of joy that have faded from sight, 

Like the face of a friend who is dead ; 
Where the lilies of bliss were blossoming white, 
An-d the flowers of hope, and the flowers of delight, 
All about me their sweet incense shed. 

There were barks Friendship-laden that sailed with 
my own 

From my youth's, O, so radiant shore, 
But safe into Port they have slipped one by one, 
And I see them no more, for their voyage is done ; 

O me ! but I see them no more ! 



There were hands that were reached to me over the 
tide, 

Dear hands of the tried and the true, 
Long years have their clasp to my own been denied ; 
O dear vanished hands of the true and the tried, 

'Tis in vain that mine reaches for you ! 



HEART ECHOES. 167 

But lying before is a beautiful shore 

Whose splendor no pen can portray ; 
And there, when the fret of the earth-life is o'er, 
I shall meet once again with my loved gone before, 
And my longing be over for aye. 



RECOMPENSE. 

O WEARY hands that empty wait 
To grasp the golden thread of Fate ! 
O brows, whereon the crown of pain 
Has Reason's chaplet reft in twain ! 

feet, that long in briery ways 

Have walked through grief-beclouded days, 
Nor found the flowers of Rest that grow 
To brighten up life's path below ! 

1 say in faith be brave to do, 

The sun will sometime shine for you. 

Though fate may frown and storms may mock, 

God sees each lambkin of His flock. 

No feet that walk His pastures, may 

In blindness go so far astray 

But that He sees the wandering one, 

And some day will reclaim His own. 

O brothers mine, whose hands are hard 

With daily toil ! lo, your reward 



l68 HEART ECHOES. 

Is sure ! O toiling sisters, often faint 
Beneath the burden of complaint, 
Fate's golden thread will sometime weave 
A golden woof for you, believe. 



FLOATING DOWN THE RIVER. 

Floating do^vn Life's rapid stream, 

Light and shadows o'er me, 
I am dreaming the old dream 

Others have before me. 
Dreaming of the perfect bliss 

Of the kingdom vernal. 
When I go away from this 

To the Land Eternal. 

Floating down the stream that ends 

At the City Golden ; 
Going out to meet the friends 

Of the days so olden- 
Bright this earthly land I know, 

But that one is brighter ; 
White the lilies that here blow, 

But the7'e they are whiter. 

Floating down through sun and shade 

To the sunset crossing ; 
But my soul is not afraid 

On the billows tossing. 



HEART ECHOES. 169 

Reached to me I see a Hand 
Which will help and guide me ; 

On the ferry where I stand 
Is a Form beside me ; 

On before where I shall tread 

Is a beacon shining, 
Lighting up the clouds overhead 

With a silver lining. 
Christ to me will be anear — 

Faithful Friend forever;' 
What, my soul, hast thou to fear, 

Floating down the river. 



THE END. 



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